The Cat and The Fiddle
by Saranac
Summary: Summary: Jerry Tyson (3XK) is captured after Castle shoots the killer off the bridge. Tyson is then tried and sentenced to life in prison. However months later another killer emerges devoted to carrying on Tyson's legacy and Castle must put personal feelings aside and seek out his nemesis' help or risk losing the people who matter most in his life. Post-Watershed.
1. Chapter 1

Summary: Jerry Tyson (3XK) is captured after Castle shoots him off the bridge. The killer is then tried and sentenced to life in prison. However when another killer emerges devoted to carrying on Tyson's legacy Castle must put personal feelings aside and seek out his nemesis' help or risk losing everything he loves. Post-Watershed and goes slightly AU afterward.

**CHAPTER ONE**

**September 28**

**High Security Wing**

_To The Honorable Tyson__,_

_I've seen your work. I've marveled at its detail. The preparation you took. Everything. You may have been caught but your reign brought a city of eight million to its knees. You've inspired me, Mister Tyson. I will carry on your legacy._

_Your much devoted fan,_

_Dam_

"Well that is a most delusional piece of composition. Heh, 'delusional'. That's a good word for the day."

Richard Castle stood outside of Jerry Tyson's polycarbonate glass cell, his face a myriad of unreadable emotions as he watched the notorious serial killer, now clad in prison orange, study the letter. The letter that was handed to him had come in an unsealed envelope to which Tyson had neglected up until now choosing instead to focus on the letter first. Castle had said nothing up to this point. He simply arrived alongside two prison guards who had handed both that envelope and two other similar envelopes to Tyson. Just as quickly as they had come they had left leaving Castle alone with this chilling predator. It was already well past nine on a cold fall night and this prison and this person were the last place and face on earth the writer wished to see.

"Hey Castle," Tyson said as he examined the envelope. "This is postmarked the beginning of August. That's almost two months ago. Prison mail is notoriously slow even for a celebrity like me but even my 'will you marry me 3XK' letters still arrive with some regulatory."

"No blondes, I imagine," Castle said, speaking for the first time since his arrival. His tone was accusatory and there was no mistaking the look of disgust on the writer's face.

"You know, they never leave in the girl's picture," Tyson said with an over the top sigh as he searched through the envelope dates looking for the next oldest letter. "But that trashy pulp they write? You could learn a thing or two from some of those lonely women. Makes your famous page 105 seem like a birds and the bees talk from the old folks."

"Cry me a river," Castle said, his eyes narrowed dangerously. "You lost your rights the moment you slipped that noose around her neck, Tyson. You want to blame someone? Look in the mirror."

"Yeah, but how can anyone stay mad at such a pretty face?" Tyson said as he opened an envelope with a letter dated a week after the first one. "You know, I feel a bit like Mister Rogers. You can be my own Speedy Delivery."

"If Mister Rogers were a horror story," Castle said with a grimace. Tyson looked the writer over again taking especially close notice to the taut rigidness of Castle's demeanor. He was pacing slightly and his usual immaculate style of dress appeared to be anything but. His wrinkled clothes suggested that they had maybe been slept in. His clean shaven face was long passed the bad boy five o'clock shadow and was nearing unruly. Likewise, his normally styled hair was a mess of tangles and in dire need of a good comb. He looked more akin to a swashbuckling pirate or a lumberjack than a member of the high society elite. Then there were the mannerisms. Castle's fists flexed as he waited, a nervous habit, apparently. Something had the writer spooked and Tyson could only imagine that whatever situation he had been facing for the past month had deteriorated to the point of near hopeless desperation. It was the only real explanation as to why Castle would seek his enemy's council now.

"To the Honorable Tyson," Jerry said as he read the second letter. He paused for dramatic effect and to even clear his throat, milking the moment and enjoying the sight of his enemy's duress. "There is little doubt in my mind that you have not received my first letter and that it had been intercepted by authorities. While annoying, this is not at all unexpected and were I a betting man I'd wager you won't receive any of my fan mail until I've pushed the stakes even further. Little do the police know that the situation has already reached that point. You see every kill I make, I honor you. Your gift. Your art. It has inspired me, yet, while many would call me a copycat I have decided to take what I consider to be both your best qualities and my own and combine them. Turn them into what I consider as much an art as a science that I feel will keep me off the scope of the police for an acceptable period of time. In short you have inspired me, Jerry Tyson, but I won't limit my method to simply copycatting you. I have mutated it. I have evolved it. And only now are our protagonists realizing the gravity of the error they made in assuming I was, but a simply copycat. Your disciple as it were, Dam."

"That was intercepted on the fifteenth; two weeks after the first letter," Castle announced once Tyson had finished reading.

"I can read a date..." Tyson said with a roll of the eyes and pointed to the postmarked envelope identifying the day that it was sent out. "But let's skip the rest of the lit for now and you tell me what it is my... 'Disciple' has been up to. How many bodies?"

"Fourteen women killed."

"You mean to tell me you let fourteen innocent women die before you finally swallowed that pride and came to me for help?" Tyson chided, "Why Castle, you have more blood on your hands than I do," Tyson said and admonished the writer with a cruel mocking smile.

"The killer doesn't limit himself to one city."

"Maybe after the department is sued for criminal negligence you and I can share a cell together."

"Tyson-"

"No I don't imagine he would," Tyson said in reference to the multitude of cities, "How long then before the pattern became apparent?"

"Law enforcement bureaucracy. I wasn't with the investigation at the time but it wasn't until the third body, the one in Vegas, did the feds get involved. By then this had been doing on for almost two weeks. It wasn't until another week, August seventeenth, did the Warden finally come forward with the letters he had intercepted from Dam to you," Castle explained. "The task force stayed in Chicago hunting down leads for a week before the girl was found in Times Square. That's when I got involved."

"And then what? Another month until you came to me? And all the while this sociopath has been out there killing?"

"No," Castle said. "From what we can tell he hasn't killed since he first started leaving the bodies of missing persons for us to find." Tyson's brow furrowed in confusion so Castle explained further. "With the exception of the first body discovered all of the women were killed weeks if not months before we found them."

"Which means he controls when and where you find them," Tyson said as the full truth of the situation dawned on him. Castle nodded. A moment of silence passed between the man and the caged animal. "When was the last body found?"

"One week ago," Castle said. "Once he hit the New York we were finding another body every two to three days."

"Which breaks the pattern," Tyson observed, "He has run out of bodies."

"No," Castle said with a shake of the head, "Something else happened. He..."

Tyson eyed Castle with a detached sense of curiosity as the writer struggled to come to terms with whatever it was he was trying to get across. He viewed Castle and his comrades much the same way he hoped the writer viewed him, with a predatory respect. You could respect the shark in _Jaws_ as a powerful killing machine. Something that nature had perfected over eons of evolution to be an apex predator. You would respect that creature for the abilities it had. But that was about it. At end of the day it was still your job to kill the shark - though admittedly Tyson saw himself as more the shark than the town sheriff. He was beyond delusions and false perceptions… And the town sheriff? That was how Tyson looked upon the one person who had managed to match his own intelligence and bring him down. He didn't feel any sympathy or respect for this self-appointed 'disciple' of his anymore than he would care for a diseased cockroach. Castle had always been a formidable opponent and, in Tyson's eyes, worthy of his respect. But now? The man seemed a hollow husk, a shadow of his former self. When Tyson looked at Castle all he felt was disgust.

"He took her," the writer finally managed to say.

'_Of course he did,'_ Tyson thought with a roll of the eyes. '_What a pathetic sap you have become, Richard Castle.'_

"Why don't you start from the beginning?" Tyson suggested as he moved to the back of his cell and laid down on his bed. Lying on his back 3XK folded his hands behind his head and propped his head up, studying Castle with a cold calculating measure behind a gleeful grin of malice.

Whatever had been building inside of Castle had finally boiled over as his worn patience broke.

"What? There's no time for that!" Castle yelled, snapping at Tyson.

"No," Tyson said, "You had over a month. That's plenty of time, but you fucked up. Only came to me now and if you want to do this right then I want to know it all."

Castle was quiet for a moment, his brow furrowed in thought as he rolled the situation over in his head and tried to determine if this was really the best course of action. He wanted a solution and he wanted it now. He didn't have the time to entertain Tyson with every last detail of the investigations that led up to this point. However, as Castle read the look on Tyson's face, he knew he had no choice. This was his last shot and Tyson knew it. The 3XK would savor this moment for all it was worth. It wasn't like he got cable in here.

"Burn in hell," Castle said as he turned and began to walk away, but the taunting laugh of his most deadly enemy chased after him. It eventually caused the man to stop and look back at the cell that laugh had emitted from.

"And where will you go, Castle?" Tyson called after him. "Face it. You have no one left!"

"How did it get to this?" Castle said to himself and bowed his head for a moment in reflection of just how grave and out of control the situation had become. Eventually the crime solver turned on his heels, marching back to Tyson's cell. "I warn you, Tyson, if you waste my time-"

"You'll what? Throw me away for another lifetime? Please, Castle, this promises to be the most fun I've had in months. Now, I assume the situation you are facing is time sensitive?"

Castle glared at the sociopath but begrudgingly conceded the predator's point.

"It started after your trial, when Kate first moved to DC."

"Beckett left New York?" Tyson said in surprise, "Weren't you two star crossed or whatever it is you are calling it these days?"

"Not relevant," Castle said as lightning flashed and thunder cracked.

"I want it all, Castle," Tyson said with a tone that construed no room for argument, "And besides you never know what might turn out to be relevant."

"I should have aimed for your head."

"And I should have pulled the trigger in that motel room. Guess we're both fucked. Want to share some Rocky Road?"

Rain began to pelt the grounds outside of the super max while the two students of the macabre settled in for what was going to be a long night in the maximum security wing.

"Okay," Castle said at last, "This Dam persona this guy calls himself. We think he first grew enamored by you when your trial was top news."

_To be continued..._

* * *

Disclaimer: Don't own Castle or any of its characters or settings.

AN: This is my first foray into the Castle-verse and while I have seen the entire series I have yet to grow fully accustomed to writing its characters. Similarly I am new to writing mystery and crime-genre so I ask you to bear with as I endeavor to get it down. Other than that see my profile for more information and feel free to leave behind any questions, comments, or snide remarks.

-S


	2. Chapter 2

Summary: Jerry Tyson (3XK) is captured after Castle shoots him off the bridge. The killer is then tried and sentenced to life in prison. However when another killer emerges devoted to carrying on Tyson's legacy Castle must put personal feelings aside and seek out his nemesis' help or risk losing everything he loves. Post-Watershed and goes slightly AU afterward.

**CHAPTER TWO**

**August 27, One Month Ago**

**Precinct**

"So what do we got?"

"Eighteen year old white female. Dyed red hair. Bruising around the neck, signs of strangulation."

"Where did we find her?"

"Times Square, she was hanging-"

* * *

**September 28, Present**

**Tyson's Cell**

"Boring!"

"What?" Castle said as he shot Tyson a patented glare made famous by Beckett when she would interrogate suspects in the box. Castle hadn't even finished the preliminary details before the killer interrupted him. "You wanted to know so I am telling you."

"If I want to read an autopsy report I'd ask for it," Tyson said with a scoff, "No... I have _the_ Richard Castle with me tonight."

"Get to the point," Castle said with a tone that said he was in no mood for games that night.

"Tell me a story, _writer_. Tell it to me like you were writing it in one of your novels. Make it exciting!" Tyson said and wiggled his fingers in the air from his seat on his cell's bed.

"People are dying," Castle said as his eyes focused on Tyson in silent condemnation. "Innocent people."

"Hey! I can't even read your Castle fan fiction in here so if I'm going to help you I demand to be entertained."

"How about I talk to the Warden about having that bed of yours removed instead?" Castle asked, his eyes smoldering in anger at Tyson's impudence. "Think how comfortable that will make things?"

"And the personal stuff too," Tyson said without missing a beat.

"Come again?" Castle asked.

"You know," Tyson said with a knowing grin. "You and your girl."

Castle closed his eyes and sighed. Tyson watched as the writer took in a deep breath to try and calm the inner turmoil waging inside of him.

"She isn't _my _girl," Castle said with emphasis.

"Really? Because the way you unloaded that gun into me you seemed pretty peeved that I had my own gun to her."

"Why do you even care?" Castle demanded. "And why are we even discussing this? This is wasting time!"

"Hey," Tyson said and narrowed his eyes at the writer. "You know my psych I targeted you?Why I'm fixated on you? I know you, Castle. You and your little Scooby gang too. We have history, man! It's personal between us. I've stood in your room and watched you sleep – you drool by the way. That's my psychopathy. So come now, don't be a dick. Full access pass to all areas, Castle. That's the deal. Now what did you do to break up your little wonder team?"

"It wasn't me," Castle said after a moment and turned his eyes away from Tyson to focus on the ceiling tiles far above them. If he was going to do this then he didn't want to be looking at that sociopath's maniacal grin. Groaning in frustration Castle shook his head. "And this has no bearing on the case so-"

"No dice," Tyson interrupted."From the whole 'she's been taken' melodrama speech you got going it's pretty clear Beckett has some bearing here. And let's get to the heart of it. You wouldn't be here talking to me if you had Beckett to go to."

"I never said the person they took was Beckett," Castle pointed out. "And if you must know a couple months ago Beckett took a job with the FBI in DC. After that, hanging around the precinct was difficult for me so I took a step back to focus on my writing. There, there's my personal history for you."

"Two people who have been together for five years can't make a long distance relationship last... what? Couple of months? That's just weak, Castle. Tell me what really happened."

"What really happened," Castle began. "Is that she left and then came back to the City when the murders in New York were linked to others out of state. Crossing state lines, that makes it federal and the FBI came in to take point in the investigation."

"And Beckett decided that she could use her old partner's help in cracking the case," Tyson inferred with some understanding.

"She is on the task force," Castle said. "But she didn't come to me. The other one did."

"She has a sister?" Tyson asked and looked at Castle in surprise.

"Of sorts."

* * *

**August 27, One Month Ago**

**Castle's Loft**

"And as Nikki's heart slowed to beat its last," Castle said aloud into the void of his office as he typed and then drew a blank. "Great," he muttered and took a moment to sip his scotch in quiet conundrum. "Its last breath?" Castle shook his head as he struggled to come up with an appropriate ending to his star character's final chapter. Nearing noon Castle was still dressed in his pajamas and a comfortable black robe. It had been another late night, one that didn't come with much sleep due to the images of Castle's former smiling muse that still haunted his subconscious. Pushing himself out of his chair he moved away from the desk in his office and moved to look out his window. Castle took in the clear blue New York sky. It was only late August and already the leaves had started to turn. With a chilly nip in the air and frost now melting, the sun's zenith finally climbed highest into the sky and showered the City in golden rays, this year's fall looked to be coming earlier than most seasons.

"And as the bullet had pierced Nikki's heart so had Rook's eyes misting with tears as he watched his love sing her swan song," Castle said trying out a different phrase. He closed his eyes and lightly tapped his fingers against his forehead, attempting to clear his head and find the right words. He had been working on the final Nikki Heat book nonstop for the past month, but not because he was wrapped up in it. It was a distraction and one he sorely needed. Unfortunately, said distraction proved to be a poor foil for the memories that played repeatedly in his mind's eye and his latest attempts at working his craft ended in abject failure. Even Gina called him out on his lackluster writing lately. Castle knew he was better than this. That this caliber of writing was beneath him and that whatever it was he had that made him tick just wasn't going for him right now. In fact, it hadn't been going anywhere this entire past month.

He began to lose track of time, standing there and staring out his large picture window. At last, Castle gave up trying to find his way out of the maze that had become the figurative image of that morning's latest bout of writer's block. He had become so very tired of dealing with it. Castle just wanted Nikki Heat to be over with. No more deadlines, no more harassing calls from the publisher, or endless questions from his fan site. If the rumors were really true and that this was to be Nikki Heat's final bow.

No, he wanted something new. He needed something to help him move on and the melting ice in his forgone glass of scotch wasn't it. Castle had become so lost in his thoughtsthat the ringing of his cell didn't even register with the writer. His focus was outside his office, outside the window, just staring at the bright blue sky and the dozens of moving New Yorkers making their way through the day some hundred feet below him. Finally, he surrendered a long sigh of defeat and rubbed his jaw. He felt the brush-like bristles on his unshaven face. He needed to get himself together already. This wasn't doing anyone any good. Making up his mind Castle turned and headed out of his office. Destination: the loft's small, but well stocked kitchen. His mind was focused solely on making something warm and tasty with no small amount of espresso for added peppiness. With a good breakfast – or brunch as it were – maybe he could then refocus and get some real work done that day.

Castle had just finished washing his hands at the sink in preparation for the coming feast of bacon, eggs, and whatever other breakfast goodness crossed his fancy when there came a sudden knocking from his door. He paused and frowned at the sudden intrusion. His mother was out treating herself to a spa for the day and Alexis, as far as he knew, had meetings with her professors for the upcoming fall term. Choosing to ignore the knocking he refocused on making breakfast, but as the seconds passed whomever was knocking had only become more insistent. Finally, it got to him.

"Okay, okay," Castle called out as he walked to the door bundled in his robe, "I'm coming," he added as he traversed his apartment despite the rumblings from an empty stomach marinated in hard liquor. Reaching the door Castle took a moment to peak out the eyehole and did a double take when he recognized the person on the other side. Wasting no time he unlocked and opened the door, fixing the best smile he could manage onto his face, which at the moment wasn't very much.

"Richard Castle," the woman at his door said.

"Agent Jordan Shaw," he said in greeting, "It's been a while."

"Mm," she said with a nod. Dressed in a black pantsuit with a white blouse underneath Shaw looked picture perfect composed, in contrast to Castle's own disheveled appearance. "Four years, is it?"

"Something like that," Castle said and nodded in agreement before gesturing for her to come inside with a big sweep of his arm, "Mi casa es su casa."

"Gracias Señor Castle," she said with a faint smile of her own and entered inside, "Making... lunch?" the FBI agent asked when she saw the current state of his kitchen.

"Brunch," Castle clarified, "It's been a late morning."

"I noticed," she said with a wry smile at his state of undress. "You look a little out of it. No coffee yet, I imagine?"

"Among other things," he said with a shrug. "But I was getting something together just now when you started knocking. But not to worry, I have plenty for two if you are interested in having some company for lunch."

"You mean brunch," Shaw said with a hint of mirth in her eyes.

"Right," Castle said with a nod and returned to his kitchen to begin bustling himself with meal preparation. "Brunch."

"As delightful as that all sounds I'm afraid I'm going to have to pass."

"Busy day?" Castle asked while he opened his fridge and began to scrounge for food.

"Busy month," Shaw responded and made her way to the kitchen island where she perched herself on one of the stools.

"Yeah?" Castle questioned as he took out the egg carton and packaging of bacon, setting them each on the counter next to the refrigerator. "You catch something big?"

"Exactly," she said and took a moment to study the writer in his entirety. Her trained eyes didn't miss much and after a few moments she shook her head. "What the hell happened to you? Rough morning?"

Castle stopped in his preparations and took a moment to think that one over. He closed the fridge door and turned his head to fix her with a look of defeat.

"Rough month," he said responding to her in kind. "Trying to finish off the final Nikki Heat book and I've been running into a bit of trouble with – well, with all of it."

"Writer's block?" Shaw said as she tilted her head and looked at him in curiosity.

"For lack of better word choice."

"I see. I'd offer to be your muse, but last time I checked someone already had that position filled," Shaw said as she squinted her eyes, seemingly trying to spot some telling sign on him that only a person with skills of an experienced profiler such as herself would see. "Where is Detective Beckett?"

"Not here," Castle said in response and then his face turned to one of question himself."Which I thought you would know,shouldn't you? Feds run in the same circles."

"It's a big community," Shaw answered.

"You're fishing," Castle said after a moment's consideration. "What's going on here, Shaw?"

"Caught me," she said with a smile and shrug. "Listen, there's a situation and I really need all hands on deck for it."

"I see," Castle said as he ducked down to open the cabinets inside the kitchen island and searched for a suitable frying pan. "Well, that's the great thing about the FBI. Big community. Lots of hands."

"Castle-"

"Shaw," Castle said interrupting her. Deciding to put operation brunch on hold for the moment he poked his head back up over the island counter and fixed his eyes on the agent candidly. "I don't know what Beckett told you but I've been out of the game for months now."

"I know," Shaw said, "Beckett informed me what had happened between you two and for what it's worth I'm sorry it didn't work out." Castle only stared, for several beats, until finally just nodding his thanks for her thoughts. "But," she continued. "We are facing a situation that I think you can be a great help with. An old friend of yours in fact, 3XK?"

* * *

**September 28, Present**

**Tyson's Cell**

"Hey, that's me!"

Castle rolled his eyes.

"Continuing on."

* * *

**August 27, One Month Ago**

**En route to the Precinct**

"So... LA, Vegas, Chicago, and now New York?" Castle said counting the four cities off with his fingers. Sitting shotgun beside Shaw in the black FBI SUV Castle stared through the tinted passenger window as he focused his mind on the job at hand and recounted the information Shaw had presented him with back at the Loft. Despite his current status with the NYPD, or lack thereof, and disinterest in getting back into the role of crime-solver, when he understood the situation Shaw was facing he couldn't find the words to turn her down. For over a month they had been chasing a ghost. Starting in LA it wasn't until they associated the murders in Vegas and Chicago to the same MO, the same killer, did the FBI get involved. Since then it has been Shaw's task to bring the murderous sociopath to justice. New York was the most recent city to be hit, the body discovered hanging from the roof of a building in the middle of Times Square. A note had been found, stapled to the victim's chest, which led the task force to believe that the killer was only getting started.

"Two bodies in LA, one in Vegas and another in Chicago, and now one in New York," Shaw said with a nod. "Five total, so far, including the one found two days ago in the Square."

"Was that the one of the girl all over the news?" Castle asked, for clarification.

"Thirty thousand people a day go through that one intersection," Shaw said as she drove, "Someone wanted attention and they made sure they would get it."

"But all of these victims had been dead for weeks at a time?" Castle said as he worked to wrap his mind fully around the situation they were facing. It wasn't easy coming into a serial killing midway through an investigation. There was a lot to catch up on. After Shaw informed him of the basics in his apartment Castle had scrapped brunch and told her that he would assist in this investigation. Even if 3XK was in prison the idea of a copycat running around didn't sit well with Castle at all, especially one that had managed to stay hidden in the shadows for this long. Besides Shaw was an old friend who had always treated him with decency compared to other law enforcement professionals he had come across in his time. So after changing into some fresh clothes, and leaving a message for Martha and Alexis that he would be out for the rest of today, he fell in beside Shaw as they made their way to the Precinct.

"Missing people reports," Shaw said as she continued to drive. "That's where these identities are coming from. The first victim was dead for three days when she was finally found hanging from the crossbar of a field goal in a downtown LA football field. Group of high schoolers found her and then dialed 911."

"Scary stuff," Castle commented as he pictured the scene of a bunch of teenagers coming across a body posed like that.

"I'll go over the details fully with you when we reach the command center," Shaw promised.

"Yeah about that," Castle said with a tone of some hesitance. "I haven't been back at the precinct in over three months. I'm not sure if Gates would be okay with me being back there."

"Hey," Shaw said as they came to a red light. She turned and looked at him expectantly. "This is my investigation and I want you with me on this. If you want out then that's your decision to make, but I could really use another mind to build theory with."

"And Beckett?" Castle asked."The last time she and I spoke it was pretty clear where we stood."

"She understands the seriousness of the situation and she should know more than anyone about what you can contribute to a case such as this one." The agent smiled, "Hell, I'd make you a deputy, but I don't have any extra stars lying around."

"It's just, me and her working together again," Castle said as he tried to explain his own situation. "There was a reason she broke it off."

"Yeah," Shaw said with a nod as the light turned green and she drove the car forward. "And personally? I think it's crap."

"She told you?" Castle said, looking at her in surprise.

"Eh," Shaw answered as she took a moment to find the right words. The last thing she wanted to do was say something that would upset the situation further between the two former partners. "Look, I'm not going to get into the whole 'she said' and 'he said' game. I'll put it to you like this; someone who can shoot a gun out of a suspect's hands is more than qualified in my book to assist in this investigation."

"I was aiming for his head," Castle insisted.

"Sure," Shaw said with a wide grin. "And when you shot Jerry Tyson off a bridge when he was holding a gun to your girlfriend that was what? Beginner's luck?"

"He wasn't going to kill her."

"You couldn't know that for sure," Shaw said as she pulled into the Precinct's parking lot. Parking the SUV in an empty space Shaw killed the ignition and looked over at Castle for a final ruling. "Last chance, Castle. You in?"

Castle took a moment to close his eyes and let out a deep breath he didn't know he had been holding. Finally, he reopened them and his brow furrowed in determination.

"Let's do this."

_To be continued..._

* * *

Disclaimer: I don't own Castle or any of its characters or settings.

Reviews: Quick shout out to those who left a review: Sun and Phoebe. Thank you both I appreciate the kind words and I hope you continue to enjoy the read. As for how Beckett, Lanie, and the boys will figure in they are coming. They each have their part to play.

AN: Re-uploaded this chapter to take care of spelling and grammar issues. I hope you enjoyed the the chapter, everyone.

-S


	3. Chapter 3

Summary: Jerry Tyson (3XK) is captured after Castle shoots him off the bridge. The killer is then tried and sentenced to life in prison. However when another killer emerges devoted to carrying on Tyson's legacy Castle must put personal feelings aside and seek out his nemesis' help or risk losing everything he loves. Post-Watershed and goes slightly AU afterward.

**CHAPTER 3**

**September 28, Present  
**

**Tyson's Cell  
**

"You're holding back," Tyson claimed after a momentary lull in Castle's storytelling. The serial killer's eyes focused on Castle searching for any hints of what the writer was deceiving Tyson with. So far some of it made sense while in other parts, seemingly smaller insignificant bits, just didn't add up. Specifically the parts about Castle's personal life to which Tyson found most irritating. Castle was a renowned storyteller and could make nearly anything interesting. On the other side of the coin Tyson shouldn't be all that surprised if he changed certain facts or refused to tell him about key details in his relationship with the former detective.

"I need a chair," Castle said and then proceeded to turn and walk away from the clear polycarbonate cell. "Be back in a few."

"Hey get me a grape soda while you're out!"

"Sure," Castle said with a roll of the eyes but then a sly mischievous smile drew across his face. "But hey," he called back just before he was out of earshot. "If you are really under the impression that I'm 'holding back' who is to say I won't lace it with laxative?" When he heard no followup retort from the guy Castle smiled in victory.

_'Score one for me,' _the writer thought with a small sense of satisfaction. There were no other cells in the immediate area of where Tyson was located. No other prisoner contact. The killer may not have received the death penalty but that was only because the judge had thought death was too merciful for the killer. Life in isolation was a far better punishment for someone who had destroyed so many lives. For every life Tyson had taken he would have thirty years to sit alone and dwell on that. With any luck he would go insane. Castle wasn't often a vindictive person but the moment he saw Tyson hold that gun on his Kate, the love of his life, any sense of fairness or hope for redemption he may have been inclined to give the killer had vanished. He wanted the bastard to suffer. Thirty years for each life he had took added up. It would be hundreds of years before his time had been served in full. And with no chance for paroleTyson would long be dead.

Not long Castle came upon one of the super max's many checkpoints. The guard sitting behind the bullet-resistant ballistic glass recognized Castle and gave hima nod in recognition. He approached the window and the guard pressed down on his intercom button.

"Everything going okay Mister Castle?"

"Worse than I hoped but better than I feared," Castle said with a rueful look as he held down the button on his side of the intercom. "I'm afraid tonight's performance of 'Conversations with a Psycho' is only just beginning. You don't happen to have an extra chair lying around do you?"

"Yeah I got one for yah," the guard said with a sympathetic nod. Castle watched as the guard stood from his seat and bustled around the inside of the checkpoint, searching for what appeared to be an aluminum folding chair. As Castle watched his idle mind began to wander as he thought about what Tyson had said. About holding back from telling him the personal details in Castle's life. The killer hadn't been mistaken. Castle had left out many details and went so far as to change smaller parts that held no real bearing on the case.

For example his mother hadn't been at a spa that day and Alexis wasn't meeting with professors. Instead Martha had been out shopping for a new dress for a charity event she was attending the following weekend. As for his darling daughter she was tutoring kids at a local high school's summer program in preparation for their finals. Even lying about the fact that Kate had gotten a job not at the Bureau but as a clandestine agent at the Attorney General's office had been a carefully considered had no idea how far Tyson's reach extended outside of prison and he wasn't about to further risk the security of those he cared about.

The truth of the matter was that much in the way the NYPD was supporting the FBI in the investigation into this new serial killer who referred to himself self only as "Dam", Kate had been loaned out from the AG office much like Castle had been recruited given their past experience in dealing with 3XK. Of course that hadn't happened until the Warden came out and informed Shaw and the FBI that Dam had been writing to Tyson. Once that connection had been established Kate was immediately contacted in DC and was on the next flight to New York. As he understood that had only been about a week before Shaw knocked on his door telling him in no uncertain terms that she could really use his help, despite whatever Kate may or may not have said on the matter.

Neither was it an easy decision for Castle to agree to. In all fairness he had walked out on Esposito and Ryan and all the others of the Twelfth who he had come to call as friend over the years. He had stayed on for additional two cases after Kate had left for her new job in DC but everytime he walked into that bullpen and saw her old desk or even went to make himself a cup of coffee at the espresso machine in the break room the memories just became too much. That's not to say he didn't drop off without so much of a goodbye. After their last case together he had gone out for drinks with Lanie, Esposito, and Ryan for one last hoorah. None of them agreed with the decision he had made but they hadn't blamed him either. In fact they had suggested at the most he should just take a few months off in order to get his head straight and then consider coming back or at least not be a stranger. That last part Castle had managed for a few weeks but his wallowing had eventually got the better of him and he fell out of contact as he absorbed himself in his writing.

Thus when Shaw asked him to consult for the case it wasn't without some trepidation but in the end Castle made the hard decision that what was happening was far more important than his own emotional baggage and the fear of what would happen when he was reunited with his friends at the NYPD. As for Kate? That was an entirely different story.

* * *

**August 27, One Month Ago**

**The Precinct**

"Everybody I'd like to introduce, or reintroduce as the case may be, Richard Castle," Shaw said as the writer accompanied the agent into the bullpen. Much to Castle's fears an awkward moment had descended upon the room as most of the activity stopped and all eyes fell on him. Some looks showed uncertainty while others showed more skepticism. All were questioning. Already Castle could see that the decision to bring a civilian back on board was not unanimous and had been met with some resistance. But as Jordan Shaw had said to him earlier this was her investigation and it was her decision to make.

"Mister Castle has consulted with the NYPD for years now and was instrumental in helping the FBI bring Scott Dunn to justice some years ago," Shaw added in further explanation. That last part seemed to be enough for the FBI agents as many could remember hearing about that case when Shaw had been kidnapped and an entire HRT team had nearly been killed by a bomb in a warehouse. Stories like that had a habit of circulating and those who worked with Shaw now could appreciate Castle's contributions to the case. The NYPD though was another story.

It was a cruel irony to Castle that the FBI seemed more accepting of his consultation and the police officers seemed more hesitant. When you broke it all down the fact of the matter was when Kate was here so was Castle and when she wasn't Castle had left. Now, one week ago, the former detective had temporarily joined onto the team again and now so had Castle. One person though did make the effort to welcome him.

"Agent Avery?" Castle said when he recognized the other FBI agent he had worked with on the Dunn case all those years ago.

"Mister Castle," the man smiled as he approached the writer and shook his hand. "I think I owe you a drink still. You saved both me and my team's lives back there. More than happy to have you aboard," he said and gave Castle a warm and friendly smile. "And don't think I didn't forget about those wild theories you would go on about."

"Yeah," Castle said with a bit of a chuckle. "I'll try to be a bit more on task this time around when building theory."

"Oh don't hold back," Avery said. "Please. Right now we need wild and outside the box thinking. Wild is the only game in town."

"Yeah," Castle said and nodded to Shaw. "I've been told you have a pretty decent mystery on your hands. Normally I'd be excited but given how far things have gotten."

"That's putting it mildly," Avery said as his tone took on a more sharper edge. "We've been trying to get our hands on this SOB for months. Hopefully you being here can add some extra spice to the pot. Maybe catch a break that will help put this killer behind bars for good." Castle studied the other man for a moment and judging by the look in the agent's eyes behind bars wasn't exactly what he was hoping for. A bullet in the head and hole in the ground would likely satisfy the agent much more than any prison sentence.

"Well," Agent Shaw said as she looked around the bullpen and saw that most of the task force had returned their focus to the investigation. "That's the idea. Castle I'll give you a moment to settle in. I have a smartboard detailing everything we know so far. It's set up in the conference room. Meet me there and we'll get you fully briefed. Avery?"

The other agent nodded and the two made way to the conference room leaving Castle alone by the stairs. Directly across from him was Kate's old desk, only it was currently being occupied by a cop that Castle didn't recognize. Her elephant decorations were gone only to be replaced by cluttered papers and some empty fast food wrappers. All sense of neatness and organization had been abandoned. There was one thing though that stayed the same, Castle noted. His old chair next to the desk was right where he left it. Why it was still there he couldn't begin to fathom. He found himself imaging that maybe it was because for some optimistic deference to him. That it just felt wrong to move it elsewhere and that maybe the people at the Twelfth still held out some hope he would return to them like Esposito and Ryan and the others had suggested all those months ago.

"Well how about that," a familiar voice said in a friendly tone. Pulled from musings of reflection Castle turned his head to see Detective Ryan standing a few feet away. "Richard Castle, the prodigal son, returns. Been a wild rover have we?"

"Detective Ryan," Castle said and smiled happily at his old friend. "It's been too long."

"Got that right," the detective said and for a moment Castle did sense a small bit of hesitation. But only for a moment and he reached out his hand to the writer and Castle accepted it gratefully. "But you're here now and that's what matters."

"Special Agent Shaw made a compelling case," Castle said as he shook his friend's hand and then he couldn't help but resist a cheeky grin. "I mean really, Ryan, I leave you guys alone for a few months and the Walls of Jericho come tumbling down."

"Yeah," Ryan said as he let go of Castle's hand but still kept his smile shining brightly. "We've been busy but we have managed to rule out ninja assasssins."

"Thanks be to that," Castle laughed. "But what about killer smurfs? This might be right up their alley."

"Or killer zombie smurfs," Ryan said as he joined his friend in laughter. "I've missed this so much."

"How's Espisito and the others?" Castle said his tone somewhat hopeful. There was a moment's pause and Ryan could see that all joking aside the man was a bit anxious about being back at the Precinct.

"Oh," Ryan said and Castle could see the uncertainty in Ryan's eyes and how his face fell. Looking over his shoulder he turned his attention to his partner at the far end of the bullpen who was standing by his desk and holding an opened folder in his hands. Espisito was watching the reunion but when Castle and Ryan saw him the detective immediately returned his attention to the open folder and it's files in his hands. "Yeah," Ryan went on to say. "He's a bit sensitive right now."

"Oh," Castle muttered and sighed in dissapointment. It had been a long shot but he had hoped Espisito would have overlooked his absence.

"For what it's worth though," Ryan said as he returned his attention to the writer. "He was the first one to suggest to Shaw that she should consider bringing you in."

"From what I heard it wasn't a popular decision," Castle said as he looked down at his black leather shoes and couldn't help but shuffle his feet nervously.

"Yeah there was opposition."

"Gates?" Castle asked as he looked to the Captain's office. Her blinds were open but if she saw Castle she gave him no notice as she seemed keenly focused on some paperwork at her desk. Her door was closed and it was entirely possible that she hadn't heard Shaw's earlier announcement but Castle had a gnawing feeling the current Captain of the Twelfth was well aware of who was standing in her station.

"Among others," Ryan said and gave an ever so slight nod to the breakroom behind him. Castle let his eyes follow Ryan's gesture and in one brief moment blue met hazel. But just as quickly as she had appeared Kate turned her head away from the breakroom window where she had been peaking through the blinds and walked out of sight.

"Listen all joing aside what happened?" Ryan asked, unable to hide his strong curiosity.

"A man should never marry his muse," Castle said after a moment's thought. "It ruins the illusion."

"Guess the pool's back on," Ryan mumbled under his breath.

"What?" Castle said as he turned to Ryan, not quite having caught what he said.

"Forget it," Ryan said with a dismissive hand gesture. "You know it's not all you."

"What do you mean?" Castle said as he looked to Ryan searching for clarification.

"Your espresso machine kicked it," Ryan explained. "Six years and thousands of cups of coffee for a caffeine addicted precinct. You do the math."

"Wait," Castle said as his eyes widened in horror. "You don't mean..."

"Budget cuts, man," Ryan answered with a helpless shrug. "Got the old coffee machine out of storage."

"And Gates is okay with that mud?"

"She brews her coffee at home," Ryan said as he cast a glance her way. "But for those of us who are constantly on the go?"

Castle sighed and nodded to the man but then gave him a very promising smile.

"Don't worry," he said reassuringly. "I won't leave without getting you a machine worthy of the Twelfth."

"You have _no_ idea how great it is to hear you say that," Ryan said and there was no mistaking the relief in the detective's voice.

"Happy to see you fellas held onto my chair though," Castle said with a nod to his old seat.

"Yeah about that," Ryan began and Castle could see the uncertainty.

"What?"

"We weren't the ones who put it back."

"Then who?" Castle said as his brow furrowed and the cogs in his head began to whirl as he considered the differing posibilities.

"You know," Ryan said as he looked back at towards the breakroom window where Beckett had been standing moments ago. The detective sighed and shook his head. "Some things just shouldn't change."

"And yet they do," Castle said as his voice took on a harder tone and his eyes now focused on where she had been watching them from.

"Shouldn't keep Shaw waiting," Ryan said. "There is a lot you need to get caught up on and I have an extremely long list of FAA records to check through."

"The FAA?" Castle asked. "How does that figure in?"

"Well yeah," Ryan said as if the answer was obvious. "How else you going to hang a body from the top of One Times Square."

"That's how the latest victim was found?" Castle said in surprise. He knew she was found hanging in Times Square but didn't know where precisely. He imagined from a fire escape in an alley or something out of the way and easily hidden from plain sight.

"Yeah," Ryan said and Castle could detect a bit of anger in the man's voice. "Her father worked the morning shift at a newstand in the area. No parent should ever have to see their child like that."

Thoughts of his own daughter flitted through Castle's head. The thought of something like that happening to Alexis was enough to push out all other distractions from the father's mind and Ryan saw the subtle but definite shift in the writer's demeanor. Ryan completely understood his anger. Castle wasn't the only father in the room. Even though Jenny had yet to deliver their firstborn the idea of someone doing that to her and their baby filled Ryan with a cold black Irish fury.

"If you'll excuse me," Castle said and drew his attention to the conference room where Shaw was waiting. Giving Ryan a nod in farewell Castle walked to the conference room with a renewed sense of purpose. As for Ryan the detective felt a bit more optimistic about their chances and his face must've shown it as he returned to his desk and sat down next to his partner.

"What's got you in such a good mood?" Esposito demanded.

Ryan looked at his partner and gave him a confident cocky grin.

"I got twenty that it happens by next week."

"Which?" Esposito asked with an air of complete indifference. "That they're back together or she shoots him?"

"You can't have that much hurt without caring for someone," Ryan said as he stole a moment to look at the picture of his wife on his desk. He knew his best friend was just throwing up a front. It would take time but he was confident that Esposito would come around again. Focusing back on the FAA records Ryan gave Esposito's remarks some thought. "As for the back together or shooting him? Can't the two not be mutually exclusive?"

_To be continued..._

* * *

Disclaimer: I do not own Castle or any of the show's characters or settings.

Chapter 2 Reviews: Just want to thank everyone who reviewed, they really help keep me going. I hear yah on the Caskett breakup and how crazy it is to think a pair like that could ever breakup after everything they've been through; it's even harder to do it and stay true to the characters. All I can say is to keep faith that things will work out in the end.

AN: Wish I could take credit for the "man shouldn't marry his muse" line but that one belongs to Stana Katic. I know you are all eager for some Castle and Beckett time but please be patient. I'm trying to make sure each character gets their due and also get a feel for writing them. Lastly, I'll get into the exact details of the investigation next chapter. So until next time.

-S


	4. Chapter 4

Summary: Jerry Tyson (3XK) is captured after Castle shoots him off the bridge. The killer is then tried and sentenced to life in prison. However when another killer emerges devoted to carrying on Tyson's legacy Castle must put personal feelings aside and seek out his nemesis' help or risk losing everything he loves. Post-Watershed and goes slightly AU afterward.

**CHAPTER 4**

**September 28, Present**

**Tyson's Cell**

"You know what you think about when you're locked up in here?" Tyson said idly as Castle returned from the prison checkpoint with an aluminum folding chair in hand that the guard had let him borrow. "Knowing you have no future. Knowing that the rest of my life consists of this small eight by eight cell. Knowing all those plans and hopes I had put on hold thinking I would have time for later."

"And what about those women you killed. They had their entire life ahead of them," Castle had said. It was obvious he held no sympathy for Tyson. To Castle, Tyson spending the rest of his life in this cell with no chance of parole was more than justified given the crimes he had committed. However if Castle's lack of empathy had bothered Tyson the killer didn't show it and instead continued with his monologue as if Castle weren't even there.

"I suppose that's true but then they didn't spend the rest of their lives in prison. It was over for them in less than a minute. Meanwhile I'm stuck here with no chance of escape. Not like last time at least. Back then I was in general and could get in touch with others. Manipulate them to serve my own purposes. Like that one guy I paid to take the fall for me. What was his name?"

"Marcus Gates," Castle supplied needing no thought at all to remember details of Tyson's file. He had all but memorized every line inside. "You paid for his brother's surgery."

"Someone has been going over old case records. But no, no Marcus Gates this time. And aside from that fanmail I get," Tyson said and nodded at the assortment of letters on the floor. "And one hour of exercise a week? A guy can go crazy thinking about all the things he wish he could've done while he still had the chance."

"Tyson," Castle said as he unfolded the chair and took his seat. "If you think I'm going to share in your little nostalgic pity party-"

"I'm trying to _help _you, Castle," Tyson said and shot the writer a look of annoyance. "And not just with finding your girlfriend and catching the asshole holding her."

"Beckett isn't missing," Castle pressed to which Tyson just gave him a very skeptical look. "We've been through that already. This has nothing to do with Beckett. This is about finding Dam and putting him away. And the clock is-"

"You're a sentimental guy, Castle," Tyson interrupted, cutting the other man off. "One of your biggest weaknesses if you let your emotions get the better of you, _especially _when someone you love is in trouble. I mean yeah you handled yourself well enough on that bridge when I had my gun on your girl but you gotta figure that you didn't have any other options. You had to take a clutch shot you normally would never consider making. That's how desperate you had become. And now you're desperate again. Boxed in with no way out. That's why you came to me, something you would normally never do." Tyson saw that he now had managed to capture Castle's full attention. 3XK didn't wear it on his face it but inside he was smiling. It was so easy to distract the writer in his currently fragile state. So easy to manipulate him. And the greatest sense in that victory was knowing that Castle didn't even realize he was being led."Beckett is gone otherwise you would be theorizing back and forth with her _or_ she would be here with you while you talk with a murdering sociopath you would like nothing more than to somehow forget you ever knew."

"You're insane," Castle said but his poker face had slipped and Tyson saw that his words had struck a chord within the veteran crime-solver.

"Probably am," Tyson said. "Although to be fair the first step to recovery is admitting it. So hooray for me. But then if I am insane then what does that make you? Desperate enough to seek out an insane killer for help? That same killer who would love nothing move than to tie you to a chair and make you watch as I tighten my rope around your girlfriend's neck."

"So then why are you helping?" Castle demanded.

"I have my reasons," Tyson said and this time he allowed himself to crack a wild-eyed grin. He was channeling his best Jack Nicholson right now. "But since you care so much I will tell you that this is the most fun I've had since before you shot me off that bridge. A good distraction from my reality. A taxpayer sponsored hell."

"You won't trick me into feeling sorry for you," Castle interjected. "You ruined your life. You put yourself in that cell. So drop all of this sympathy for the devil shit."

"We all have cells," Tyson said as he glanced to his cell's ceiling. His voice had become nearly philosophical. Finally his eyes drifted back to the other man. "Let's say you find Beckett and play the big heroic knight in shining armor and beat the bad guy. Then what? Case is closed and you two go your separate ways." Caslte's silence was all the confirmation Tyson needed. "Now, if you're okay with that then no worries. Bit if your dreams include a happy ending with a Missus Katherine Castle and you just let her walk away because you're either too scared or too prideful to make something happen? Well then I'm not the only one who is locked away with no chance left for hopes and dreams."

"Me and Kate are just fine," Castle growled behind clenched teeth. He had promised himself before he came to the prison that he wouldn't let Tyson reach him. But he had and Castle was seething at the turn their discussion had taken.

"Kate now is it? Before you were all 'Beckett this' and 'Beckett that.' Did I hit a raw nerve? No, don't say anything. I can see it all over your face," Tyson said with a cruel mocking grin that told Castle just how much he was relishing this. " But you know what? I'll do you a solid. For the sake of argument though let's say your girl wasn't a factor. Why are you here?" Tyson said looking at Castle expectantly. "I mean you're just Rook Just the journalist sidekick. She's the hero in your story. The real hero. We're not talking about fiction works anymore, Castle. The monsters in my world are very real."

Castle didn't answer. He couldn't and not just because he couldn't think of any sensible answer he was backpedaling and trying to undo the havoc and chaos Tyson had managed to stir up in Castle's mind. No, it was all he could so to keep calm and try to get back to a clear headed state. Fighting against the inevitable current that was the mastermind and manipulation of 3XK. Tyson smiled as he watched the inner war being fought inside of him. He was at the edge. Ready to call his time with Tyson a waste and attempt a different strategy elsewhere. It would be so easy to fall into that but much to Tyson's surprise the warring emotions on Castle's face subsided and the renowned consultant won the battle of staying on point. Of regaining his focus. Tyson was fairly certain what the writer's motivation was, which only proved further just how accurate his own accusations were.

"I'm here," Castle said. "Because some psycho out there thought it would be a terrific idea to finish the story you started."

"You used to be more fun," Tyson said as he considered the other man. "But you're right. Let's table it for now and get back to hunting down my number one fan and your 'FBI agent' girlfriend."

"Try to keep up," Castle said choosing to ignore Tyson's repeated jabs at his personal life. It wasn't doing anyone and good and Castle knew time was against him.

"Try not to be so boring you put me to sleep," Tyson shot back and rolled his eyes at the writer's inability to face his troubles head on.

"After I got to the task force HQ Jordan Shaw brought me up to speed on the progress they had made on by what was then five deaths. Their investigation had already been underway for almost a month until they brought me on. Beckett was brought in only a week earlier. So there was a lot of ground to cover."

* * *

**August 27, One Month Ago**

**The Precinct Conference Room**

"Data matrix smart board," Castle observed when he entered the makeshift FBI command center. "You gals and boys sure know what I wish for on my X-Mas list." He smiled and looked at Shaw who appeared to be somewhat amused by his antics. "After our last forray together I went out to get one for myself but it has nowhere near the resources or calculating power your version has."

"Oh you know me, Castle," Special Agent Shaw said as she turned away from the board to speak to him. "I'm just as much a sucker for the toys as you are. Although to be fair the dress code hasn't improved much. So you take the good with the bad."

"Very Zen, Agent Shaw. And I imagine the thought that you are sparing no expense for taking down psychos like this Dam guy may put a damper on my nostalgia."

"A damper? How dare I pose such an emotion on the inccorigible and esteemed mysterious Richard Castle," Shaw said in mock terror. "I didn't know the Rapture was upon us."

"Oh, Agent Shaw," Castle purred and wiggled his eyebrows for her. "You know all the nouns that are the key to unlocking my writer's heart."

"I think you mean adjectives," Shaw said and gave him a knowing look.

"And she corrects grammar appropriately too. Expensive toys, an agent who spellchecks, _and_ a serial killer who has managed to stay on the dodge for over a month? Kiss me I've gone to heaven," Castle declared. Hearing his remarks activity in the room came to a stop as each agent turned their heads to give Castle several disapproving looks of utter disbelief. "Wow," Castle said as he only now realized what he had said. "You all really harmonized on that. With your looks I mean."

"Gallows humor, Mister Castle," Shaw said while shaking her own head at his over enthusiasm. To her credit though she come to his rescue. "But I'll give you that one since it's your first day back and all. Now, let's get down to it."

As the agents returned their attention back to working their current leads Shaw turned and addressed the smart board that included what was the vast resources of not only the FBI but other alphabetical soup agencies whose acronyms Castle couldn't even begin to imagine on what they stood for. With precision and skill of a professional maestro Shaw worked the touchscreen smart board with both masterful and gaceful proficiency. How she navigated through all the leads and enormous amounts of data already collected to find the file she was looking for, well, it was something Castle had only seen done in the movies. While his earlier exuberance may have been over the top if she ran the rest of the investigation with such efficiency he was very much impressed with how she ran her task force. In moments he was looking at a storyboard timeline that spanned the entire past months of July and August. All the notes were there from the initial onset of the investigation by local LAPD to when the FBI became involved once the greater pattern had been recognized.

"So very meticulous," Castle remarked. Walking over to the board he stood beside Shaw. While Beckett's team had always focused on details most of their cases never lasted this long and had so much attention to detail given to the victim – or the suspects for that matter to which Castle quickly determined there weren't many of. They looked to have a makeshift profile of the killer but there had yet to be a solid lead with a name attached.

"Can't take all the credit," Shaw said as she took a moment to look over the amount of investigating already undertaken in the past month. "You should remember that all of the victims were reported missing well before we discovered their bodies. Weeks in some cases. Local LAPD handled the initial investigation into the first two victims. But once it crossed state lines into Nevada and the pattern of what was clearly a serial killer had been realized we got jurisdiction and have been running with it eversince."

"Well then let's start there," Castle said and turned his attention to when the first victim was found. The task before him was daunting to say the least. An investigation that had been developed over two long months was not to be taken lightly. He knew he needed to catch on fast and it may take him several read overs to get it right but he was determined.

The first victim was found over a month ago on July 28. Touching the screen the case file for the girl, eighteen year old Lilah Springer, was found dead hanging from the crossbar of a field goal at an Los Angeles high school football field. Caucasian female of average height she had shoulder length golden blonde hair and blue eyes. Apparently a group of high school kids found her and immediately dialed 911. Preliminary autopsy ruled out suicide since there was no ladder or support device she could have used to tie the rope onto the crossbar. Police had tire tracks only a few hours old that suggested someone had driven her out here earlier that night and stood her on top of the car and tied the noose around her neck. Then all they had to do was drive were no traffic or surveillance cameras in the area so aside from distinguished pattern of tire treads they had nothing else to go on. She didn't have any ID either but the kids who found her identified her as one of their classmates. She had gone missing three days ago on July 25. There were no fingerprints found on her and while they were able to discern the make of the vehicle's tires the ground wasn't soft enough to determine any footprints.

"Autopsy found she had died of strangulation sometime the day before," Shaw said as Castle continued to read. "Local PD canvased the area but found no witnesses. The person who did this was careful and no novice to police procedures."

"So she was already dead when they...?" Castle paused, searching for the right words to give voice to the heinous crime. In the end though his creative mind failed him. "Strung her up," Castle said at last. "Did she have any enemies?"

"LAPD ran down the usual suspects. Classmates, boyfriend, etcetera. They all checked out and the case went cold."

"Figures," Castle said as he examined the crime scene photographs and couldn't pick out anything else that the local cops might have missed. Focused on the evidence he didn't see Shaw watching him with some hope in her eyes that he would spout some theory they hadn't considered. Despite his reputation it became evident he was just as lost as they weere. And as will all cold cases after those first couple of days and no leads cases went from hot to cold all too quickly. "But police found another victim. When did they tie her to this case?"

"We've tied in four other victims" Shaw explained. "As for the second? It had been a week after the first victim was found," Shaw answered as she closed Lilah Springer's case file and selected the next fil;e in the timeline in what was a chronological order. "Second victim: Jo Yandle. 21 year old white female. Same hair and eye color and found hanging under the Santa Monica boarwalk on August 4. LAPD wasn't able to connect her to the other victim until dental records determined her ID and her name popped up on the California missing person database. She had dissappeared the day before Lilah Springer went missing."

Castle did the math.

"So she was missing for 11 days before they found her body?"

"Exactly," Shaw said Castle could easily see grave expression etched over her face. "And that has been the pattern with all the victims. According to the medical examiners each had likely died the day or the day after they went missing. The bodies were kept on ice until the killer decided when to display them for us to find. COD wasn't hanging over asphyxiation from drowning but, like Lilah Springer, strangulation. No prints found on her either. Her mother came in to confirm it was her."

"I got yah," Castle said as he focused further into the details of Jo Yandle's case file. "And let me just to make sure I'm following you right. From what we can tell the killer hasn't killed anyone since Lilah Springer. All of his victims were missing persons who went missing days or weeks before their bodies were found."

"We don't know how he's doing it," Shaw said. "Or how many he has abducted and then murdered. Like I mentioned earlier we have five victims tied to him but there could very well be more."

"And since he isn't actively killing now all you have to go on is how, when, and where his victims were found."

"And the nature of their abductions. But by now if previous investivations into missing persons haven't made progression? After weeks at a time then to be realistic. We need to focus more on what is happening now. For example, it is very much clear he likes the attention," Shaw said as she began to profile a picture for Castle. "High school football field and the Santa Monica Pier located in the middle of downtown LA. Webcams for the pier and boardwalk didn't pick anything up so what the LAPD determined is that Jo Yandle was killed and then put on ice or some other form of preservation process. And then when the time came for her to be found they likely drove a small boat under the pier at high tide. That's what the LAPD hypothesized and for the moment it makes as much sense as anything else. They then tied the noose to one of the dock's support beams and left her body floating there with the noose around her neck. That was when Pier Maintenance found her half-submerged at low tide. Based on water decomp they determined she had been floating in the water for three to five hours when they found her at dawn on August 4."

"And based on her age, physical description, _and_ when they learned she had gone missing the very day before Lilah Springer – LAPD made the connection."

"We have footage of her stopping at a bank ATM on her way from work the night we believe she was abducted. Uniforms later found her car abandoned in a parking lot three days later. All evidence suggested to a kidnapping but with no leads her missing person case hit a dead end."

"Until they found her under the pier."

"Which we have been largely focused on," Shaw said and selected another portion of her file to read from. "No prints. No footage. But by then the police hypothesized the killer was going after blondes and that the victims were random as no friends or associates of either victim were connected to both victims." Castle didn't reply but instead focused on the photos taken of the victim, Jo Yandle. For the moment it was all he could do for her.

After he gave Shaw a nod she closed the file on Lilah Springer and then moved her hand over the next mark in the timeline.

"Alisha Cullen," Shaw began. "Our third victim. 24 year old white female from Bentworth Illinois she was visiting family in Palmdale California when she was abducted. Brown hair, blonde highlights, and brown eyes she was found hanging from a welcome sign to a ranch outside of Las Vegas on August 10. Again COD was strangulation but the ME put her time of death a full 18 days before she was found in August. This led us to estimate she was killed around the date of July 23, the day she was reported missing."

"And one day before our second victim Jo Yandle went missing," Caslte said.

"And two days before our first victim Lilah Springer was first reported missing," Shaw added.

"This is driving me around the bend," Castle admitted with some small reluctance. Shaw looked at him with question and Castle clarified further. "We say Lilah Springer was the first victim because we found her first. But both of the victims found afterwards were clearly taken and killed before she was. And now we're in Vegas?"

"Ranch caretaker found her that morning," Shaw said. "She was brought there and displayed sometime the night before – after the caretaker had gone home for the night. We did have a bit of luck with this one though. Tire treads matching the same ones found with our first victim. Given weight distribution patterns we were thinking van or truck of some sort. And no, she had no association with either other victim."

"So likely random abductions, targeting white young blonde women, killed shortly after they are abducted, bodies were well preserved for weeks at a time, same COD, and relatively the same manner their bodies are found – hanging," Castle said and used his fingers to check off the common facts between the three victims. "The victim found in Vegas though, that doesn't necessarily fit the profile. Not a natural blonde and a remote ranch isn't exactly a high profile target."

"It is when that ranch is owned by the former governor of Nevada," Shaw said and went on to bring up the crime scene pictures taken from the ranch. It was a pretty setting. The surrounding country was very beautiful. But he wasn't there to marvel at the landscape.

"Well that is a twist," Castle said as he returned his attention to more pressing details on the ranch location. "Going from the crowded streets of LA to a remote ranch. And it narrows down our suspect pool. I don't think too many people would know about said ranch's location."

"Unfortunately no," Shaw said and Castle was beginning to hear the aggravation in her voice. "It wasn't common knowledge but it was in his possession during his time in office so it is available for public records. And it was remote enough that the only security installed was around the immediate ranch house. Nothing was covering the mile drive from the ranch entrance to the house itself."

"I don't know," Castle said as he rolled the idea around in his head. "He knew enough about the ranch's security system to know he wouldn't be picked up on any security footage. That suggests he scouted his target dumping sites well ahead of time. And the ranch is remote enough so maybe it's caretaker had seen a strange van or truck hovering around the weeks leading up to when the killer left her body there."

"Yeah we checked for that but no dice," Shaw said. "And after Chicago we checked again and still no good."

"Chicago?" Castle questioned.

"Yeah," Shaw said as she closed Alisha Cullen's file and then selected the next one on the smart board's timeline. "After Nevada jurisdiction was transferred over to the FBI and I was put in charge we ended up staying in the desert for days running up blind lead after blind lead. But then five days after Alisha Cullen was first discovered another missing person was reportedly found hanging from a park basketball hoop on Chicago's southside. Her name is Wendy Milton. 18 years old, blonde hair, green eyes, and incoming freshman to a local community college. She graduated from her high school this summer."

Shaw took a moment and saw Castle take in a deep breath when Wendy Milton's picture popped up onto the screen. Like Shaw he had a daughter as well and from what she understood Alexis was not much older than both Wendy and their first victim Lilah Springer. Any earlier excitement Castle may have had about being back to solving crimes had evaporated.

"Witnesses in the area reported seeing a black panel van. We picked it up later on a traffic cam. Windows were tinted so no clear shots of the driver and the plates were fake but we were able to track the van through some ample usage of traffic cameras until we lost it somewhere on the westside. Chicago PD put out an APB for the van and a van matching it's description was found dumped in an abandoned industrial park. The tire treads matched those found at the first and third crime scenes. We then backtracked the vehicle's VIN number back to a van that was newly sold over nine years ago to an owner in Utah. Traded hands and was sold to a guy in California who reported it stolen over two years ago."

"Nine years is a long time," Castle said. "Not that many GPS trackers back then or other anti-theft devices. What about RF trackers?"

"The van actually did have one installed but we found evidence of tampering, a felony in itself. And even if the DOT _did_ keep records that far back it stopped working years ago." Shaw sighed before going on to gloss over some more facts about Wendy Milton's family life and friends and other associates but it was the same story as before. Random selection. "Although there was one bit that broke the pattern," Shaw added. "Unlike the other three victims she was Wendy was reported missing in early July – July 6. She had been missing for over a month and time of death says she was strangled at around the same time she went missing. The body was kept preserved for well over a month before the killer, this Dam persona, left her to be found hanging in a Chicago park two weeks ago on August 15."

"Yeah about that. When did you discover the killer's name?" Castle said as his eyes narrowed in thought. "You found no trace of anything at the other crime scenes."

"We caught a break," Shaw explained as she closed the file on Milton and opened up something different. "By now the case had been going on for weeks and was catching attention. It was still sporadic enough that not everyone could link it together but when a Warden of one of the country's most notorious prisons intercepts letters going to Jerry Tyson, indicating our suspect is reaching out to our newly incarcerated 3XK, you tend to take notice."

"So he calls himself Dam," Castle said and pondered the implications as copies of the letters from Dam to Tyson were brought up on the smart board.

"Don't know why and at the moment I didn't care all that much," Shaw said as Castle read through two letters that had been sent from the supposed killer to Jerry Tyson. "It was more than what we had before."

"Well the story always matters," Castle insisted. "The reasoning behind such a name could reveal more about his motives than you might realize. Now the first letter doesn't say that much," Castle observed. "Anyone could've gotten that from watching Tyson's trial highlights."

"Yes," Shaw conceded. "But his second letter hints at the pattern we managed to uncover so far." Castle read and found she was correct. Dam had been at work at something far bigger than what Jerry Tyson had done and that only now were the police beginning to realize the true scale of the murders. "We've been keeping quiet about the nature of how all of the women were reported missing well before their bodies were found. We don't want families of other missing persons fitting the physical description to worry themselves needlessly. Therefore the only way Dam could've known is if he was involved."

"Add to the fact that he's targeting blondes and using 3XK's MO with the hanging of his victims," Castle alluded and then focused his eyes not on what was written in the letters but that it had been written at all. "These aren't block letters or a computer's font. These things are hand written."

"Still no prints," Shaw said to Castle before he could ask. "But his writing is telling."

"Left handed," Castle observed. "And surprisingly very legible. Not a lot of people can pull off cursive like that."

"Which narrows our pool of suspects considerably," Shaw inferred. "Unfortunately we're still talking about millions of potential suspects."

"Something is better than nothing," Castle said and gave Agent Shaw a small smile of encouragement.

"Thanks but I don't need platitudes, Castle. I need a lead. No matter how crazy a theory," she said though he could see Shaw appreciated his effort.

"Dam is interesting pick," Castle said returning to his earlier line of thought as Shaw closed the letters and then selected the most recent entry on the timeline.

"Oh?" Shaw said and looked at Castle with her curiosity showing across her face. "So you do have a theory?"

"As much as I like the story like you said it isn't much to go on. Just thoughts on the name – Dam. When we think about a dam we think of something built to hold something back. Most times we think water."

"Okay I'm with you so far," Shaw said and folded her arms across her chest. A sudden shadow in the doorway to the conference room briefly caught her attention but she refocused on Castle before the writer could track her gaze.

"Dams, hydroelectric dams, they provide power. Their turbines can power entire cities," Castle said as he began to pace and lost himself in his thought process. "However if their spillways are fully opened then they can overrun and destroy entire regions. That dam can turn that same city it powers into waste."

"Meaning?" Shaw prompted.

"Well just that symbol. Think about it. Given the parameters of the case it's not enough for Dam to just kill people. He wants to make a statement. His letters to Tyson only magnify that. Talking about while he admires Tyson he won't make the same mistakes Tyson did. That he evolves. That he is in control. The operator of the dam spillway has so much power at his fingertips. He controls the flow. He decides when to hold the water back and when to release the floodgates."

"Perhaps," Shaw said and nodded her head along to Castle's thought process. "So then are you saying this guy is in the power industry?"

"No. Nothing like that," he said and ran his hand through his thick and unruly hair. He really needed to get a haircut. He knew he hadn't been taking care of himself over the past month and if he was going to interview possible suspects, provided they find any, it might be better he not look like a wookie. "What I'm saying is it's perfect symbology for his MO. Holding back until he feels the time is right. Then when he does he ensures the power behind the displaying of the victim's body is imense."

"Okay," Shaw said. "But to what end? Most serial killers I've met like killing because they like killing. They may say they have a reason but in the end that reason is just an excuse. They want to kill someone so they will latch to and fixate on some obsession to rationalize what they are doing."

"Could it be that he just gets off on it?" Castle asked, as if the answer could be that simple. "When you hold a life in your hands. The decision whether they live or die? A weak and insecure person might see that as a way to get back at something that happened to them. In this case he fixated on Tyson and used his 3XK persona as a way to rationalize his urge to hurt. To destroy."

"Well," Shaw said. "It is a possibility. Although I was expecting something a little more off the wall – this being you and all."

"Oh don't worry," Castle said and flashed Shaw one of his old pattented grins that promised plenty of imaginative possibilities. "I'm just getting warmed up." Returning his attention to the board and the fifth and latest victim, Castle waited for Shaw to open it when a shrill ring was heard coming from Shaw's pocket. Reaching inside her inner jacket pocket she retrieved her cell and checked the call ID. The ringtone was set to Beethoven's Fifth so whoever it was Castle imagined that it wasn't someone Shaw thought all too fond of.

"Shit," she muttered. "It's my contact at the NTSB."

"The National Transportation and Safety Board?" Castle asked in surprise. "Is this something to do with those FFA records Ryan was checking out?"

Shaw forwarded the call to voicemail and then nodded in answer to his question.

"They've been fighting for jurisdiction over _my_ crime scene," she explained. Shaw rolled her eyes. "Of course they claim it's an accident."

"So an aircraft was involved," Castle asked. He had his earlier suspicions when Ryan told him: 'How else would you hang a body from a skyscraper.' But Castle wasn't entirely sure if he was being honest or trying to pull a fast one over him. Given their history Castle assumed that it could have been either one. Looking at it now though the writer was very much interested in what this fifth murder entailed.

"I'm going to have to call him back," Shaw said and gave Castle and apologetic look. "They're pulling the wreckage out today and if I'm not there to advocate I may never see my crime scene again."

"You know what?" Castle said. "It's okay. I'd rather see the scene myself in person. I men, you know me. It helps me really get a feel for challenges that the killer would have faced and had to overcome."

"I get where you're coming from but best I can do is download the case file to your phone and let you go explore on your own. Given the nature of the body's discovery we have an outbreak in potential leads we need to run down. Not that I expect all that much progress given our killer's aptitude for covering his tracks. So-"

"I'll take him," someone suddenly said from behind them. Someone with a certain voice Castle knew all too well and it didn't exactly leave him feeling a sense of wanted nostalgia. "Besides," the voice said as he heard footsteps coming from the conference room's door and came up beside Shaw. The telltale sound of heels clicking on the floor all but confirmed that it wasn't just his imagination. "He does his best work when there's someone to bounce his 'gun-toting viking' theories off of."

Castle turned his head and found two hazel eyes meeting him.

"Hey Rick."

Whatever eagerness towards the case that was on Castle's face had vanished as he met his ex-partner's gaze. Several moments began to pass but for him and the woman standing there before him? Time itself had seemed to still as the catalyst to Castle's past month of self destruction stirred a feeling deep inside of him that he had tried to bury under several bottles of scotch and hours of fruitless writing. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Shaw was looking between the two in uncertainty and for the first time might have considered that it wasn't wise bringing him on board. It was enough to distract Castle and bring him back to the present situation they were facing.

"Beckett's right," Castle said with a glance to Shaw.

"You're sure?" Shaw said and looked at him with varying degrees of doubt written across her face.

"What's going on now is more important than our baggage," Castle said frankly. Besides it wasn't as if she had put personal feelings aside to work on a case as memories of Sorenson and missing child case they had investigated all those years ago filled his memories. "And if anyone can put professionalism first it's her," Castle said and looked back at Beckett and gave her a slight but tense nod. If she could do this then he certainly could as well. "I'll meet you in the parking lot." He moved to leave the room but then paused and looked back at her. There was a lot he wanted to say and Beckett could easily see he wanted to say some choice words there and then. Instead he surprised her. "Do you still have your car?"

"The Agency's local department loaned one out to me," Beckett said as her eyes trailed over him. What she was seeing Castle hadn't the foggiest but nor was it important. Not to him. Not anymore.

"I'll meet you outside then," Castle said and with a final nod and a plastered reassuring smile to Shaw he made his way out of the room.

"You two going to be okay?" Shaw asked and Beckett knew that Shaw wasn't talking about her relationship with Castle. She needed to know they could work together and work well. "I know you didn't want him to come into the investigation."

"Honestly? I still don't want him here," Beckett said. "But this is your investigation and I know that Rick – that Castle – will put the investigation first."

"When you told me you didn't want him here you said it was because you didn't want him involved in any form of police work anymore. That there were too many close calls. Now you're saying that there is no one you work better with?"

Beckett could tell that Shaw wasn't buying it but whatever the other woman thought of her personal life didn't matter the least to her.

"There is a killer out there that needs to be locked up. That's what matters," Beckett said. With a final look to Shaw she left the room, trailing after her former fiance.

_To be continued..._

* * *

Disclaimer: Sad for me but lucky for fans of the show I don't own Castle. Not the characters or settings or anything else that would involve copyright infringement.

Chapter 3 Reviews: Things do change but thankfully not too much. One of the best selling qualities of this crime show is that it has a unique air of fun to it, and not just the swordplay that Stana and Castle pull off between their two characters. A lot of this story is angst but to not provide that classic Castle-verse fun wouldn't be staying true to the show's roots. There is conflict ahead but nothing worth having comes easy.

AN: Firstly, hooray I finally got to write some Beckett. The waiting was killer and I'm relieved I can finally start incorporating the other main character in the story as this is as much her story as it is Castle's. Secondly this was the longest chapter by far and it revealed a treasure trove of details about the murders up until the point when Castle first joined the investigation. I know it is a lot to handle at once but I hope it wasn't too difficult a concept to get a grasp of. You may have noticed I included dates now to both when Castle is talking with Tyson as well as the date as to what section of the story takes place. I did this because jumping back and forth over the story's timeline can be bewildering, both during the investigation as well as Castle and Beckett's personal history of what exactly did happen over the summer. There is a lot that is happening under the surface that neither Castle or Beckett are sharing (which is typical for their relationship) and I may end up having to write a companion piece just for that alone. Thank you to all who reviewed and I hope you all who are reading continue this journey with me and enjoy the twists, deception, and surprises that are still to come.

- S


	5. Chapter 5

Summary: Jerry Tyson (3XK) is captured after Castle shoots him off the bridge. The killer is then tried and sentenced to life in prison. However when another killer emerges devoted to carrying on Tyson's legacy Castle must put personal feelings aside and seek out his nemesis' help or risk losing everything he loves. Post-Watershed and goes slightly AU afterward.

**CHAPTER 5**

**September 28, Present**

**Tyson's Cell**

"Why are you stopping?" Tyson said and looked to Castle expectantly.

"Just want to make sure you were still following. You have any questions?" Castle asked to which Tyson rolled his eyes.

"Five abducted weeks ago are now turning up dead. A bit like my MO but not so much impressed. They guy is cheating. Not all his blondes were natural. Then there are the letters he sent me and your worthless theory about his choice of persona, Dam. Then comes in Beckett and drama ensues. I also know you are holding a lot of personal details back. A lot of back story going on."

"Yes, I am," Castle said seeing no point in hiding it anymore. "But I'm not about to use you as a therapist."

"Aww," Tyson droned. "I can be a great shoulder to cry on."

"If you recall when I profiled you and talked about your mother you got pissed. So I stopped."

"True," Tyson conceded. "But you had a lot of encouragement not to keep talking. What with me holding a gun on you," Tyson said reminding him of that night back in the motel room. He waited then for Castle to take the bait but after several moments passed the killer saw that he would be getting nothing from Castle. At least for now. "Now tell me about the fifth body," Tyson said deciding it best to get back to business.

"We didn't go over the case files at the Precinct," Castle said. "Thought it best to see the scene in person. So Shaw sent them to my phone on our way to One Times Square. Took the elevator to the top of the roof and had a walk through of the crime scene."

"And to make matters worse you fell out of touch with Beckett over the summer," Tyson said as he thought over the implications. "She didn't even want you involved in the investigation. I imagine that must have been awkward."

"That would be an understatement," Castle grudgedly admitted.

* * *

**August 27, One Month Ago**

**Times Square**

"Bit friskier up here than on the street," Castle said as the two came out of the roof access entrance and felt the slap of the wind on their faces. The high pressure system that had moved in the other day was making itself known. Still it could have been worse. Could have been raining.

"Friskier?" Beckett said and scrunched her nose up at his choice of words. "That's what you're going with?"

"Oh you know," Castle said and held out his hand to feel the wind rush against his palm. "The wind hitting us? Wakes you up."

"Yeah I think I'll just stand by my ground coffee beans when I need a pick me up," Beckett replied dryly. Her tone must have been a tad icy as Castle shook his head and turned away from her. Still he had a point. The wind flowing across the roof of the enormous building did have a snap to it that shot open their eyes. Plus he had taken the intiative to start some form of dialogue. The two hadn't said a word to one another since they left the Precinct, which was a full thirty minutes ago. Naturally it had been a very tense and uncomfortable silence on the drive over to the crime scene. If a stranger were to be sitting in the car with them it would be hard for that stranger to grasp the two had been engaged not even two months ago. And then, to top it all off, right when she opens her mouth the first thing she did was criticize the writer's choice of words. "Way to go, Kate," she muttered quietly to herself.

With his tongue in cheek Castle brought up his iPhone and opened the case files of the fifth victim that Shaw had sent him during the drive over. He wasn't saying anything and for the life of her Beckett couldn't get a good read on the man. It was something she used to compliment herself on. Another thing she loved about him. He would still surprise her at times but mostly when he didn't see her. When his guard was down. Like that one moment years ago when he was talking with Kyra at the end of their case with his ex's wedding. She loved watching his mannerisms and little facial expressions. Knowing him almost as well as she knew herself. Closing her eyes she stuffed her hands in her coat pockets and pushed on. If they were going to get through this she had to make this work.

"It was a _City By Night_ tour helicopter according to the FAA," Beckett said at last and broke the the silence that had gone on for well over a minute. A very long and drawn out minute. She had already been over this case file a dozen times but she knew that the best way that they worked was to bounce ideas off each other. Building theories. He didn't reply or show any sign he had been listening but she wasn't about to just give up and walk away. "It's a company that specializes in night tours of the city. The air traffic controller monitoring the flights that night reported that the helicopter deviated from it's normal flight pattern. The pilot did radio in that his clients wanted to see the lights of Times Square at night. The ATC thought nothing of it at the time and gave it the all clear."

"The pilot was of regular? It wasn't someone they didn't know?"

"He had been with the company for years," Beckett answered. "He had a solid flight record but when we went over the surveillance footage from the roof cameras the suspect clearly fast roped down from a helicopter and the only one aircraft cleared into that area at the time was the one from the tour."

Castle nodded but his attention was still on his phone. He had found the security footage and was watching it intently. Like the rest of the file it was something Beckett had gone over many times so she waited patiently and waited for the inevitable question that everyone had asked so far.

"He was wearing an Infrared LED light on his head," Castle observed. His eyes squinted to try and see anything of note on the man's face but the IR LED was essentially a headlight that shown directly into the video footage. There was no way they could get any facial details of their suspect with this camera footage.

"Yeah," Beckett said and idly scuffed her shoes on the roof's pavement. It was colder out so she had switched over to full boots. In the warmer months she tended to stick to her trusty heels to level the playing field and allow herself a height advantage during questioning and interrogations. Of course that was mostly in the station. She learned long ago the wearing heels when chasing a suspect? No way. She didn't know how other women fared when trying to run that fast in heels but she couldn't fathom running for very long. Maybe a mile at the most? Castle brought that question when tapping her for Nikki Heat ideas. Why he was asking her she had no idea.

When the time came to start kicking down doors and wrestling suspects to the ground she stuck to her trusty ankle boots. Their heels still gave her a couple inches of height advantage but were stable and tough enough to take the abuse when she had to chase down a suspect. Of course it was cute when she saw Castle go through the footwear stage when he was determining Nikki Heat's outfit. He was actually considering on having Nikki wear stilletos when her job entailed pounding pavement.

One time she actually found him sitting at her desk and watching internet videos on her computer where women would race down streets in high heels in an all out sprint. Of course police were trained to avoid running that fast. Instead when chasing someone the goal was to keep them in sight until they tired. Then you move in for the takedown when they were winded and fatigued. As the internet video had shown it was very much feasible to race in heels as long as you invested enough practice time but for practicality's sake? Well he eventually came around to her line of thinking. Running in heels? You really couldn't do much worse. Maybe flipflops?

"The IR light on his head was too bright for the security camera's to pick out any distinguishing features of his face," Castle extrapolated further.

"He was probably wearing a mask anyway," Beckett reasoned. "All we really have to go on now is his body's height and build."

"Fully dressed including gloves so there's no chance to determine his ethnicity," Castle said and focused his attention to the grainy footage. Beckett watched as the man danced his thumb over the buttons on his phone seemingly searching for something. "Was that the only camera?"

"There were others," Kate said and let her gaze drift away from him to take in the view of the spectacular city skyline. She had seen it several times before of course but she never found herself growing tired of it. And the clear blue sky only enhanced the view. However that's when she felt the rush of incoming headache which caused her to wince and let out a quiet groan. She had thought it was quiet enough for Castle not hear over the wind.

"Beckett?" Castle stated as his eyes spotted her duress. "You okay?"

_'Damn,'_ she thought.

"I'm fine," she said and waved him off. Her eyes were closed so she didn't see the flash of concern come across her ex-partner's face. Or currently temporary partner as it may be.

"Kate-"

"I said I'm fine, Castle," she growled. Opening her eyes she watched him roll his eyes and scoff at her petulant stuborness.

"Fine," Castle snapped. "Play the closed off bitch. It's what you're best at."

And just like that they were back to where they were months ago. They had always sniped at each other as much as they flirted but things had changed after she took on her new job. She wished she could attribute it just to the abrupt change in being with him nearly every day for over five years. But it wasn't. They were strong enough to weather something like that. Instead it was a combination of things that eventually broke what everyone had considered an unbreakable bond. However, despite all those little things that added up they were still trying. It wasn't until the _other_ event that occured and ended up driving them apart.

'_Don't go there, Kate. Not now. Not here.'_

"Give me the damn phone," Beckett said harshly and marched over to him and held out her hand for it. The bright sun in the blue sky wasn't exactly helping her headache. "I'll give you the highlights."

"I can't believe I forgot how annoying you are," Castle said and and let out another huff as well as giving her his own version of the pattented Beckett eye roll. The tension now had become so thick, so palpable, that they could have cut it with a knife but he did yield and handed her the phone. Taking the phone she focused on it, studying it. She had used his phone numerous times before but that had been months ago. Before she went to DC. "Do you even remember how it works?"

"Like shooting my gun," Beckett replied and making sure to put on a good show she did her best to go through the various notations in the file and selecting what she thought was most important, most relevant, at the time. "Here," she said at last and selected a second video clip. "Take a look."

Castle turned his attention to the video she selected and watched it closely. Once again it showed the suspect with IR LED light over his head blocking out any chance of them getting a read on his face, provided it wasn't masked, only this time as the helicopter continued to hover above a second line was dropped. Attached to it was another person, or rather a body Castle realized. He then watched as the suspect on the roof tied off a rope to a duct on the skyscraper's roof. At the end of it he fixed a noose.

As for Beckett she had turned her eyes to Castle and once more searched his expressions and this time, his mask had dropped and she saw how his lips had thinned and his eyes narrowed at what he was seeing.

"And no one saw a thing?"

"It's Times Square," she reminded him. "And we figured that the helicopter didn't have it's running lights going. Gven how noisy this part of the City is and how all the lights can play havoc on a person's eyes when they try to focus on seeing things in the dark?"

"And the ATC at the local airport gave them the clearance to deviate so it wouldn't look suspicious on radar," Castle said and nodded along. After tying the noose around the girl's neck he looked on almost fascinated but at the same time very disturbed. He knew what was happening. What that monster on the camera was doing. Spellbound as he was Castle couldn't turn away as the suspect carried her body over his shoulder and out of sight from the camera. The rope tied off to the duct on the roof remained loose and neatly coiled. But only for a few more seconds. The writer could only look on as the rope suddenly lifted off the ground, uncoiled, and drew taut. Beckett didn't say anything. She didn't have to. They both knew what had just happened. They both knew what horror their suspect had committed. How he went about displaying his fifth victim. Tying her to the duct and then dropping her off the building until the rope stopped her fall and kept her suspended hundreds of feet up and hanging against the face of the famous One Times Square. And then she heard him whisper:

"Be scorn'd, like old men of less truth than tongue,  
And your true rights be term'd a poet's rage  
And stretched metre of an antique song:  
But were some child of yours alive that time,  
You should live twice, in it, and in my rhyme..."

"Wow," Beckett whispered. Castle saw her expression and smiled ever so slightly. But it was a sad smile. Nearly crestfallen.

"Shakespeare," Castle supplied to her unasked question before returning his attention to the video. "Claire Tompson," he said, the name of the victim. "Was it really that simple?" he added and then went on to snort and shake his head. Because it really was that simple and not just this murder but all the ones before that. Despite all the calling cards left behind this killer was a ghost. Beckett said nothing for there was nothing she could say. The bright sun was bearing down on them increasing her pain but she did her best to keep her composure.

The feed continued until the unseen helicopter and it's pilot descended the aircraft until it was hovering just a few feet off the roof. The rotor wash kicked up loose debris on the roof and the suspect made his way over to the landing struts and grabbed onto the rear cabin door's outer latch to pull the door open. But just before he climbed in he turned and faced the camera. Neither could see his face but they both knew he was smiling behind his mask of light. And that was when he waved his hand at the camera. The final insult. Salt in the wound. Despite all the evidence provided by the camera they had garnered almost nothing. The suspect then pulled himself up onto the strut and climbed into the cabin. Moments later the helicopter lifted back up into the air and dissapeared from sight. Although there was one thing, Castle had seen.

"The pilot," he said and had squinted his eyes to pick out the face of the pilot. It was still hard to see but given the faint glow of the lights in the cockpit there was a possibility of providing a picture of the pilot's face. "Did we get this footage enhanced?"

Beckett nodded and then began another search through the downloaded files until she came across a still taken from the camera recordings. It had indeed been enhanced and while it was grainy there was enough there to determine the pilot's identity.

"Say hello to Barry Wendel. Licensed helicopter pilot and and senior member of the tour company's flight crew."

"That's something at least," Castle said. "I assume you put an APB out on the guy?"

"What makes you think we don't have him in custody already?" Beckett asked and for a brief moment Castle thought he had seen a curious but also delighted smile on her face. But it was fleeting and soon replaced by that all too familiar forlorn look as she idly kicked an empty can near her foot.

"Well if you had I'm fairly certain Shaw would've opened with that," Castle deduced.

"Hmm," she said and tilted her head to her left as she considered him. "Nice to see that some things stay the same."

"You came to the same conclusion," Castle concluded.

"This just might work."

"Even though you don't want me here," Castle said shortly and turned away from her.

"Hey," she said and grasped his bicep tugging on it ever so gently so that faced her head on. He took a deep breath in preparation to hearing her out but he kept his head and face turned away. He knew what was coming and while he didn't want to go through it it still needed to be said. "It's not just me not wanting you here. It's more than that and you know it. I just didn't want to broadcast what happened to us to Shaw and the dozens of other cops and FBI agents looking on. What happened? It happened to us, Rick. You really think they could understand?"

"I thought you would have at least told your dad. Or maybe Lanie."

"I told no one... Well okay. I told my therapist but that's it. Like I said I don't think they could even begin to understand." She then paused, hesitated. She knew she had no right to ask but she needed to know. Okay she wanted to know but it would make things easier going forward. "Who did you tell?"

"My mother," Castle said. "Well she figured it out and then confronted me. Probably the only other person who knows me as well as you. Always been able to see right through me. I wasn't going to lie. There was no point. So I let her talk and then afterwards I filled in the blanks."

"Did it help?" Beckett asked and for the first time in a long time Castle could hear the concern in her voice. "A little," he lied. "Did your therapist help?"

"A little," she lied. "But, Rick, maybe when all of this is over we can talk about it?"

Castle's gentle azura hue he had shown turned to a stormy dark sapphire that glinted his feelings about that idea. Pulling his arm free on her hand he shook his head and turned away from her to walk back to the roof access. There was nothing more to be done here. But when he heard her whisper his name he couldn't control himself. Reaching into his coat he pulled out a pair of sun glasses and then looked over his shoulder to meet her gaze. She had hurt him and to be fair he had hurt her as well. There was no excusing either but when he held up the glasses and managed to give her nod of encouragement Beckett smiled and walked over to take the peace offering he held out for her.

The tinted glasses diminished the mean glare of the sun on what was otherwise a beautiful day. Furthermore her headache lessened. It wasn't much but at this point she would take what she could get. She still had no idea where they stood but for the moment it was enough.

* * *

Disclaimer: Don't own the show Castle or any of it's characters. ABC does. The quote was from Shakespeare's Sonnet 17.

Reviews: Thank you all for the reviews, as I said before they help me keep going. I hope this chapter helped clear up where Castle and Beckett are at. There is a lot happening under the surface and even though it was Beckett this time who tried to get them to talk about what happened, which rarely happens, he just isn't there yet. They only just reunited a couple of hours ago after a very long time apart so it will take some time for them to get comfortable around each other.

AN: Up until this chapter this story has been told through Castle's point of view as he is telling Tyson the story. But now that I _finally_ get to write Beckett I am going to be taking some liberties to switch it up a bit as this story is as much hers as it is Castle's. Also it would take away a lot of the drama and suspense if I kept it strictly to what Castle would tell Tyson. As fun it is to write Tyson's character he isn't Castle's therapist and Castle isn't about to spill his personal life to a sociopath. All that said next chapter is going to pick up with a lot more developments, twists, and fun but I wanted this chapter to focused solely on Castle and Beckett and not take away from their first moment back together. Lastly I created a deviant art page that is linked at the bottom of my profile. I created two images of story art reflecting on the theme of the story so if you are intered you can check them out.

- S


	6. Chapter 6

Summary: Jerry Tyson (3XK) is captured after Castle shoots him off the bridge. The killer is then tried and sentenced to life in prison. However when another killer emerges devoted to carrying on Tyson's legacy Castle must put personal feelings aside and seek out his nemesis' help or risk losing everything he loves. Post-Watershed and goes slightly AU afterward.

**CHAPTER 6**

**September 28, Present**

**Tyson's Cell**

"A helicopter?" Tyson asked when Castle finished summarizing the fifth victim's murder. "And the killer wore a mask that not only shielded his identity but blinded the surveillance camera."

"Not that hard to make. Weave a couple of LED lights into a cap. Can make one at home," Castle said idly. His main concerns focused on if Tyson would have anything concrete to contribute or would instead choose to keep on eating precious time by insulting Castle's personal life.

"Recap then: He goes the extra mile in order to get attention for the cameras," Tyson began while at the same time moving his hands in the air in gestures as if he were putting pieces of a puzzle together. "Maybe one of those my 'mommy and daddy didn't pay enough attention to me' sob stories? That cry for attention. Not just the news media either. All the people in Times Square with cell phone cameras. Add in a symbolizing target like that skyscraper. He's stepping it up. Up until now it was little shit. Like under that pier or football fields and parks. Enough to make the papers but coming to NYC and displaying the body like that? That video must have gone viral in hours."

"It did," Castle confirmed patiently having come to the conclusion that it would be in his best interests if he allowed Tyson the time to work the facts through at his pace and own thought process. "What else does that lead you to predict about our killer?" Castle prompted.

"I would imagine more body drops and more frequently, Castle. He's got a taste of the spotlight and he wants to make sure that spotlight stays on him. The video footage too. Up until now he's done his best to stay hidden away. But now he wants more. And it's either he's getting sloppier or more ambitious. Given how he knew where that camera on the roof was? Stopping to wave to it before leaving? Pretty clear which it is. By the way when did what's her face die?"

"Claire Tompson, the fifth victim?" Castle asked.

"Yeah I prefer HDC5," Tyson said and drew what a look of confusion from Castle. "You know? Hanging Dead Chick Number Five."

"That's sick."

"Oh and your little scooby gang calling yours truly 3XK is any better?"

"You prefer that we call you that," Castle reminded him.

"Yeah and since you came in here it's been all Tyson this and Tyson that. Don't tell me you are holding back on the 3XK just because you don't want to stroke my ego, Castle."

"54 days," Castle said in order to avoid being any further quagmired by Tyson's head games. "She died July 4 a full two days before Wendy Milton." Tyson looked at the writer expectantly, clearly wanting to hear the writer to give in to his ploys and call her HDC. Instead he got another look of disgust and Castle sidestepped the obvious bait. "Milton was the fourth victim whom they had found in Chicago the week before."

"Come on, Castle," Tyson whined. "Level with me. You had a smart board and a month to obsses over this case. Unless you have a board hiding nearby and have the powers of Chronos at your fingertips I like my HDC system better. Keeps things simpler, organized, and easier to recall."

"This is getting nowhere," the writer grated. "I'm being patient but do you actually have a point to make? Otherise I don't have time for your wordplay."

"Heh, you must be hanging around Beckett a lot. That's something she would say. Which reminds me how did your little reunion go on the rooftop? Was there any hot action? Did you lay her down and whisper sweet nothings to each other? Or was it more thanks but don't forget your bra?"

"After reviewing the crime scene myself and Agent Beckett went to talk with the father," Castle said and decided again to ignore Tyson's latest attempt at digging into his personal life. "The problem is when you work as a food vendor at the same time and at the same place where your daughter is found hanging from a building? It does something to you."

"I can see how that would throw a person," Tyson replied but then he stopped and rethought it. "Well a normal person."

"Unlike yourself," Castle pointed out.

"You sure about that one, Castle?" Tyson said and arched a brow. "Remember when you summed up my back story? My profile? You made some pretty accurate conclusions about me."

"The way you left your victims," Castle muttered and began to rub his hand across his chin deep in thought. "You left them peaceful. Made sure not to disrespect them."

"See?" Tyson said and gave the writer an unusual look of proud approval. "Even sociopaths come in different flavors. Your guy? _Far_ more fucked up than I ever was. But hey, getting off topic. You were telling me about HDC5's father?"

"Yeah," Castle nodded and redirected their conversation back towards the next step in the investigation. "The police and FBI had already collected his statement but Beckett and I knew it would be best if we sat down with him to conduct our own interview and answer whatever questions he had. Do our best to tell him what the investigation had unearthed so far. But given what had happened there he closed up his food stand at the Square and moved elsewhere. Working at the same place where he saw his daughter hanging from a building can change matters. So after we questioned the other neighboring vendors we learned he moved his spot over to Central Park."

* * *

**August 27, One Month Ago**

**Downtown Manhattan**

After talking with the other food vendors writer and muse stepped into the agency car she had on loan and strapped in for what would be remembered as a very quiet twenty minute drive through downtown Manhattan. The traffic wasn't too bad and they made good time. Mister Tompson was set up somewhere around Central Park but where exactly neither Beckett or Castle had the slightest of ideas. Taking the east side first they traveled up Fifth Avenue and kept their eyes peeled.

Unlike earlier that day when they first left the Precinct their current lull in coversation wasn't nearly as uncomfortable. Castle wouldn't go so far as to say it was companionable but their day together had improved since their coversation on the tower. It had been their first real conversation with each other since mid-summer and memories of what happened and what was said kept creeping into his thought process, which he tried his best to keep dedicated to the investigation and what possible motives Dam had for this abnormally complex process of first abducting and then killing random women.

So far there was no telling how far back the abductions and subsequent murders occurred. Already it was at a couple of months but if the pattern continued then it was likely it would go back even further, possibly years. To say this was premeditated would be a vast understatement. None of the victims they found were killed too recently. The first one had been dead for three days before they found her hanging in that football field in Los Angeles. Claire Tompson? She was missing for 54 days. The risks Dam had taken in abducting them and killing so many without getting caught were substantial. Add into the equation the fact that he managed to keep their bodies preserved for such a long time before releasing them for others to find and the planning, the logistics, of such an operation must have been years in the making. A melodic chirping from Beckett's cell phone broke Castle's train of thought and when they stopped at the next red light she opened the phone and read its lengthy text message.

"Shaw?" Castle surmised.

"Yeah," Beckett nodded. "Her and the rest of CSU arrived in Yonkers. She wants us to meet her there when we finish up with Tompson."

"That's over an hour away," Castle inferred. "And we still haven't found the father yet."

"We have time," Beckett assured. "Shaw says that they are still in the process of pulling the aircraft out of the Hudson."

"Ah," Castle understood but then smiled mischievously. At Beckett's questioning look the consulting writer couldn't hide his snicker. "She'll also have to deal with those NTSB guys she was talking about. Fighting over jurisdiction."

"Annoying as they might be it is there job to handle these kinds of events," Beckett said in their defense. Hearing her back up the other agency surprised her partner and his face must have shown it. "They are just trying to do their job and they even might turn up something relevant to the case."

"You think?" Castle asked skeptically.

"Not so much," Beckett laughed. "But we are all on the same side. We all want to get to the bottom of this and if that means having to play inter-agency hardball then so be it. Besides, Shaw knows what she's doing."

"Yeah that's one aspect of their job you don't hear about," Castle replied. "FBI is federal. NYPD is local. We don't – we didn't – have too many incidents where we had to interact with other government agencies. Working in the FBI that must be a weekly occurrence."

"We worked homicide, Castle. Other departments like narcotics often worked hand in hand with organizations like the DEA. Or organized crime? A lot of agencies are involved in that area of investigation."

"True but working homicide never stopped us from getting tapped for other types of work," Castle said and out of the corner of her eye she could see the gears in his mind winding back to what had to be a mental highlight reel of some of the more intensive moments in their time together. "That kidnapping case for example."

"With Agent Sorenson," Beckett said as she too let her mind wander a little. She didn't stray far though as she had to keep on constant lookout for Tompson.

"Oy," Castle grumbled while Beckett couldn't resist the smirk. "That guy was the poster child for everything that is dull and boring about being a cop. Worse, he specializes in kidnappings. That's about as intense as you can get and yet the whole time he looked like a cow chewing on grass."

"Moo," Beckett mimicked and couldn't help but giggle at Castle's shot at her ex. "But c'mon, Castle. That wasn't the most intense case. Remember the bomb?"

"The one that blew up your apartment or the one that managed to get us nearly frozen before almost microwaving all of Manhattan?"

"Actually I was thinking about the one that had me standing still for the better part of an afternoon. You know the one where that bomber was trying to find his kid?"

"There was a lot of close calls," Castle said as he fast forwarded through his highlight reel.

"Seriously, Castle? That one happened this past year!"

"Oh," he said and nodded along to her train of thoughts. "That one."

"How could you have trouble remembering that?"

"Well I was only thinking of the ones that had us dealing with other agencies," Castle reminded her.

"Even still! And the way you came back for me? That was one of the most amazing things anyone has ever done for me. Even Gates was impressed!" Beckett had rolled her eyes at Castle's sudden bout of amnesia so she wasn't privvy of the the sudden shift in his demeanor. However what he said next quickly clued her in.

"Yeah that was a couple of weeks before DC," he murmurred.

And just like that they were back to an awkward silence. Inwardly Beckett cursed herself. For a few precious moments everything was almost back to the way it was. Reminiscing and laughing. But then she walked them straight into a big landmine that effectively killed their brief moment of treasured compassion.

_Will it always be this hard?_

"There he is," Castle said and motioned to a vendor selling food on the other side of the street. "Think he's up for this?"

"Is anyone?" Beckett said with her mind locking away thoughts of her relationship with Castle and look ahead to the upcoming interview. Turning the wheel she drove down the next side street and managed to find an empty parking spot half a block from the main street. After feeding the meter the two crime-solvers made their way on foot to interview the victim's father. They tried to stay optimistic but both knew that what would shortly transpire would be anything but.

* * *

**Central Park**

**Onassis Reservoir**

"Mister Tompson?" Beckett addressed aloud after she and Castle had crossed the busy street and were close enough for him to hear her. Up until then Tompson had his head down with his attention focused on cleaning his cart's gas grill. The sign hanging onto his cart indicated he sold burgers, hot dogs, and other assorted sandwiches. When he heard her voice he lifted his head and his focused on person behind the voice. On Beckett. His gaze lingered and Castle could see he was trying to work something out in his mind. If it were Castle he would have been wondering who are these two strangers and how do they know who I am? Maybe it was how Beckett held herself with the air of a competent professional. Or perhaps the inquisitive but respectful tone she had adressed him with. Either way he figured it out.

"I already gave my statement to the Police," he said. It was never a promising start when a victim's loved one wanted to avoid the issue. "I told them everything I could about Claire. But if you two would like a hot dog?"

"Yes, I've read your statement but there are a couple of points I would like to talk to you about. I'm a federal agent, Kate Beckett. And this is my partner, Mister Castle," Beckett said in way of introduction.

"We're very sorry for your loss," Castle added somberly. Her father looked away from Beckett to give Castle a long considering look but eventually closed his eyes and nodded, silently relaying his thanks.

"Has there been any progress made on Claire's case?" Tompson then asked.

"We're running down a few leads," Beckett answered but tried not to look overly hopeful. "We do have some questions for you. Can you spare a few minutes?"

"Are you taking me to the station?" Tompson said and Castle saw the man's face narrow in confusion.

"Nothing like that, Sir," Castle said to reassure Claire's father. "But maybe a walk?"

"Uh..." Tompson hesitated at first but then after a few moment's of indecision he eventually nodded. "Anything I can do to help."

The duo now a trio left his stand with Castle and Beckett flanking both sides of Tompson to head into the nearest park entrance. Once away from the busy afternoon traffic they slowed their step to a more strolling pace. Finding themselves on the Bridle Path along the famous Onassis Reservoir Beckett and Castle continued to walk beside Tompson but neither spoke. It was getting late in the season and the cherry trees along the walkway were no longer in bloom but with the clear sky mirrored in the deep blue water allowed for a beautiful setting for the difficult conversation quickly approaching.

"I would come here. Me and Bethany, my wife, we would take Claire here as a child," Tompson began and at last broke the long silence that engulfed the group since first leaving his cart.

"How is your wife?" Beckett asked. It wasn't relevant to the investigation but she hoped that it would show that she wasn't here just to work the case. She wanted him to know that she cared and would then make the following conversation easier to handle.

"At her mother's," Tompson answered. His reply wasn't what Beckett had expected. Uncertain of how to continue she was grateful when Castle stepped in.

"My daughter and I would come here as well. Feed the ducks. She loved that as a child," Beckett's partner said as he shared his own experiences as a father. "Alexis still does but it has been a while since we could get together to do something like that."

"How old is she?" Tompson asked, curious about the other man's own story.

"Nineteen. She'll be starting her second year of college soon."

"Claire would have been attending her freshman year this fall. She was so excited for it. She had been preparing for so long that she wanted to spend as much time as possible with her friends before she left. With me and her mother, Bethany."

"I'm so sorry for your loss, Mister Tompson," Beckett said. Removing her borrowed sunglasses and placing them in her coat pocket she thought that maybe seeing the sympathy in her eyes would help things along between them. She was relieved when she saw that it had the desired effect.

"Thank you," Claire's father replied. "I appreciate that but to be honest, Agent? I would be far more thankful if you would let me know about the progress you mentioned earlier."

"Of course," Beckett said and gestured to a nearby bench that overlooked the large body of water. Once the three had found comfortable seats Beckett dove into the case and their findings so far. He deserved to know as much as she could give. "First you should know that her official autopsy confirmed the preliminaries at the scene. I'm sorry, Mister Tompson, but your daughter died over a month before her killer left her body for us to find. Likely not long after when she was first abducted. Even if the investigation when she had first dissappeared had turned up tangible results it is almost certain that she died within the same 24-hour period when she was taken. Even with every law enforcement resource available there was no chance of getting to her in time."

She paused to let her words sink in. To take hold. To let him come to terms with the finality of the situation that no matter what he or anyone else could have done Claire had had no chance. It must have been a crushing blow.

"Bethany and I waited by our phone for hours," Tompson said slowly, no longer trusting his voice. "Just hoping that whoever was behind this would call to demand some sort of ransom. The thing was we didn't have much in the way of financial assets. What little we had was going towards whatever Claire's scholarships didn't cover. Today's economy? We were barely above the poverty line."

"You mean: Why her?" Castle stated more than asked. He could sympathize with the man. He didn't like to think about it but he would never forget the emotional pain that had nearly swallowed him whole when Alexis was kidnapped. At the time they had thought she was taken because she was with the wealthy businessman's daughter. When they learned that that wasn't the case he had figured that maybe they were after his money. It wasn't until they held a gun to his head did he realize that whatever they were after it had nothing to do with any sort of materialistic objective. Fortunately he had somebody watching over both him and Aelxis that day. Claire and her father and mother had no one.

"We would've done anything we could to get her back," Tompson continued. "When her body was found I felt an enormous sense of guilt. Of blame. That I had somehow let her down. But now? I suppose I should feel relieved knowing that this was never about kidnapping for a ransom. Knowing that there was nothing me and my wife could do. I don't."

"I couldn't either," Castle quietly said to the fellow father. "No parent could."

"So then. Can you at least tell me why? Why Claire?"

At this point the man was only barely keeping it together. His voice was shaky. His eyes blinking quicker than Beckett thought possible. Desperately trying to muster up the strength needed to see this conversation through. Flexing his fists and tapping his foot on the pavement he gulped deeply but pressed on. They had questions and knowing now that Claire had had no chance he wanted to do everything he could to help bring down the son of a bitch who took his baby away.

"She wasn't the first. The person behind this has abducted other women," Beckett continued slowly. "He never kept any alive longer than he had to. After they died he preserved them somehow until he was ready to leave them much the same way he had left your daughter. He is clearly targeting younger women but the actual selection of his victims is random and from all over the country. All of them were missing persons first before their body was found."

"He hung all of them from buildings?" Tompson asked, clearly wondering why this wasn't bigger news yet.

"No. Mister Tompson I'm sorry it was your daughter but the way he posed her was the most public so far. The most... attention-grabbing." Beckett said before pausing long enough to try and determine just how bad off the father was. As she had expected, barely hanging on. "I apologize for my poor word choice but there really isn't any other way to describe it."

He nodded to ensure her that he understood but remained quiet. By now whatever steadiness in his voice he had was lost and Beckett couldn't blame him. What he must be going through right now? She remembered the pain she had experienced when she first learned of her mother's murder. The only feeling worse than that was when the case went cold and the police investigating could offer no reason why it had happened. No sense of closure.

"Mister Tompson," Castle said as he again took over for Beckett. "Despite how public Times Square is we don't believe your daughter's killer chose that area just for the number of witnesses that were available. After some consideration we concluded that he had to have determined his victim's identity at some point despite his random selection process."

"What are you saying?"

"We think the person responsible had to have followed you at one point sometime this past week He wanted to make sure you were there when the discovery of what happened to your daughter was found. It's a big city but do you recall anyone suspicious? Someone who was watching you?"

Like the video taken from the top of the tower Castle again found himself stricken speechless as the waves of emotion flared across Mister Tompson's face. His body quivering in a mixture of both rage and helpless desperation. He wanted justice. Maybe revenge. He wanted someone to pay. Every victim's loved ones do. At that moment though all he and Beckett could do was try their best to be there to comfort him and help guide him through this difficult process.

"Are you saying I_ met _the monster behind all of this?"

"Given the audacity this killer seems to thrive on I would say that that is very possible," Beckett answered. "Or at least to make sure you were Claire's father before he left her in a place where you would be able to see her."

"I fucking sell hot dogs in the middle of Times Square!" Tompson cried, no long able to hold in the pain that was blistering inside of him. "I meet close to a hundred people on some days. Even more in passing."

"I'm so sorry, Mister Tompson," Becket said while trying her upmost to soothe the man's anguish. "I wish we had something more to tell you."

"I – I, I need to call my wife," he said at last. "She needs to know."

"We understand," Beckett replied and nodded to Castle that their interview was winding down.

"But what the hell am I supposed to tell her? Ever since Claire was taken we've been fighting almost nonstop. So bad that she left for her mother's house in Albany. How the hell am I supposed to tell her all of this over the damn phone?"

"If it were me, Mister Tompson," Beckett said as gently as she could. "If things were that bad with a person I loved? I wouldn't make a phone call. If at all possible I would take the time to make the trip in person. Some things can only be said face to face. And also? If I may? I don't know how difficult things are between you two but I believe that taking the time to go the distance will only help heal the relationship."

Minutes passed but nothing else was exchanged between the three. Claire's father could only stare out across the gentle waters that held so many happy memories of him and his family he had loved so much. The trickling trail of tears down his cheeks from earlier had almost dried. Losing his daughter and now potentially losing his wife had taken everything out of the man and Beckett knew there was nothing else left to say as her eyes, full of sympathy, remained focused on the broken man. If she had turned away to look at her partner she would have seen a very different look. Castle's mouth was open in stunned silence and his eyes were a myriad of warring emotions but they bore into her being. Any thoughts of their victim's father were miles away from whate was filling his head right now. Only she didn't see it and when her eyes left Tompson to get a read her partner, Castle had long checked his bewilderment and schooled whatever feelings he had behind that carefully crafted poker face.

Beckett didn't want to leave Mister Tompson like this but she knew that they were needed elsewhere. Shaw was recovering the wreckage of the downed helicopter and she wanted to be there when it happened. Taking out her wallet Beckett opened it to pluck out a card that carried her necessary contact information. She reached the card out to him. Numbly Tompson took it and turned his head to nod and answer the unspoken question. If he could think of anything else he would call.

"You shouldn't be alone right now," Castle said giving voice to Beckett's thoughts.

"I know," Tompson said. "And I need to head back to my cart and close everything up. I won't be selling anymore hot dogs today."

"You have someone to call though?" Beckett pressed.

"I do. An old friend of mine is flying in to check on me later today. I'll meet with him tonight at JFK."

"Okay," Beckett said feeling a small sense of relief and then slowly got to her feet. Stuffing her wallet back in in her pocket she exchanged it for Castle's sunglasses and put them on again. While the emotional conversation had focused her mind now that it was said and done her headache returned in full force. "When we learn anything else you'll be contacted."

"Okay," Tompson whispered and did his best to give the agent a smile of thanks and appreciation. It fell far short. "Thank you, Agent."

Castle shook his left leg. They had been sitting on the cold bench for so long he had to to stretch it some before he too got to his feet.

"Of course," Beckett said and nodded to Castle when he came to stand beside her. "Take care of yourself, Mister Tompson. Again, we're most sorry for your loss."

* * *

**Beckett's Car**

**Enroute to the Recovery Site**

The interview with Mister Tompson had left both partners with mixed feelings of inadequacy but also determination. Unfortunately neither had any ideas or new theories to discuss. In it's place? More silence but not the same as before. Once again the two were in sync with what they were feeling and that bond the two had grown over their time together was slowly reestablishing itself in light of what they went through at the park. Of what laid ahead. Talking to a victim's loved one was never easy but this case made it feel especially draining. Neither would ever entertain the notion of giving up but they were up against a ghost. Whoever was responsible had abducted and killed his victims months if not years in advance and no one had the slightest idea of their fate until he decided.

How many other innocent lives had this sociopath taken? How many other conversations with people like Mister Tompson would they have before they managed to catch a break? These questions would continue to haunt them until real progress was made. Until the answers they demanded were found.

"Getting low on gas," Castle observed from his position in the passenger's seat.

"Still a good thirty minutes before we hit Yonkers and meet up with Shaw and the others," Beckett added and then came to a decision. "I'll stop at the next station."

"Right, you fill her up and I'll grab us some coffee. I know I can use some about now," Castle resolved and then glanced her way. "You too. If you were anyone else and if it wasn't for this investigation I'd drag you back to your hotel and rest up."

"Fat chance," Beckett said. She wouldn't ring the bell and go home early when there was work that still needed to be done.

"I know," Castle sighed. "Doesn't change that facts though. You're exhausted."

"Hmm..."

"What?"

"I was thinking maybe you could take over driving after we pull in," Beckett suggested in the most natural tone of voice she could manage. She hoped that the way she said it wouldn't cause too much of a surprise given all the times in the past when Castle would plea and ask and pester her into letting him drive. She always refused. This time though she wanted to give him the chance and she hoped it wouldn't happen with too big of a fuss. Unfortunately Castle's reaction was anything but easy and his words reflected exactly what she was hoping against.

"I'm sorry," Castle said with his face softening and his voice filling with concern. "But in six years you never once asked or offered me the chance to drive. What's going on here, Kate?"

"I'm tired and I have a headache, Castle," she reminded. "I could use the break and a chance to stretch my legs."

"Stretch your legs? We just walked all over Central Park."

"And most of that was spent sitting on a freezing bench," Beckett noted. "But if you driving is going to cause that much of a problem-"

"It doesn't," Castle interrupted. She could tell he was all for it but that didn't mean that he didn't believe the explaination she had provided to him. "But six years? Six years and _now_ after all this time, when we're thrown back in it together just hours ago. This and when you want me to drive?"

"I was poisoned, Castle. I'm still feeling the effects. And even if that weren't the case did you consider that this is maybe my way of trying to reach out to you? Kind of how you loaned me these," she said and tapped her finger on his pair of glasses she continued to wear over her eyes. "And maybe after some hundred plus cups of coffee you've made for me maybe I should grab you one?"

"Okay... All very thoughtful," Castle conceded. "But like I said we've been back in each other's life for less than a day and you want to hand me the keys to your government car? What about all of those department regulations you would go on about?"

"It's driving a sedan, Castle. Not defusing a bomb."

"Well hey now. Given past experiences that reasoning doesn't hold a lot of weight. I've defused a bomb but you never let me-"

"Fine," Beckett said with exasperated deliverance. "Forget I asked."

"I didn't say that I wouldn't drive," Castle said quickly. "I'm just very surprised."

"Obviously and hey! What do you mean you never drived?" Beckett said as she too took a turn to dwell on the past. "You drove us to the Hamptons and back. You've driven lots of times."

"All true but never when we were-"

"And we're here," Beckett said and turned the car into the station. Pulling up behind a truck using the nearest pump she turned to shoot Castle a look that read loud and clear that it was time to stop complicating things and just say thank you already. It worked.

"Thanks," he said and grinned like the boyish teenager who had just gotten the keys to his parent's car for the first time. "But Beckett?"

"Yes?" the Agent said and waited patiently for him to find the right words.

"You don't need to... I mean I don't expect..." Castle stuttered before running his hand roughshod over his tangled hair. Apparently words had abandoned the writer. Kate found it adorably cute.

"It's no problem," Beckett said and smiled pleasantly at her partner. The truck at the pump ahead of them pulled away and she wasted no time grabbing his spot. A big SUV ambushed her to try and jump ahead in line but Beckett, like any true New Yorker, never hesitated. Never showed fear. Killing the engine she removed the keys and passed them on to Castle. "You still take your coffee the same way?"

"Always," Castle said happily. Clearly her giving him what was a coveted chance to drive was having an effect.

"Fill her up then," Beckett deadpanned yet secretly very much amused with the recent turn of the situation and Castle's classic antics. Leaving the car in his hands Beckett crossed the court and found her way inside of the station's small convenience store. For just after lunch on a weekday it wasn't too busy but the clerk did have a few customers waiting in line so it took her a moment to get the woman's attention.

"Coffee?" Beckett asked the store clerk. The clerk was an older woman and likely in her mid to later forties. In response to Beckett's question she smiled and nodded her head towards a spot in the back of the store near the long wall of refrigerated drinks before returning her attention to a customer that was checking out. Following the woman's directions she came upon the most welcoming sight of freshly brewed heaven. Grabbing two big go-cups she took the pot of regular and nearly filled Castle's cup to the brim. After adding the sugar and creamer she went to place the lid on but held back a moment to stare at the delicious brew with longing in her eyes. Time was short though and after a small sigh of defeat Beckett set the lid and then placed his cup on the counter aside. Taking her own cup she lifted up the pot of decaf and filled up.

Coffees in hand she walked back to the front of the store but on the way she passed by a shelf loaded with medications ranging from cough syrup to condoms. Her eyes lingered on the bottles of pain relievers, or combat candy as Espo would call it. Whatever the terminology used she knew it would just do wonders for her now. Instead she continued her walk to the checkout and smiled to the clerk when it was her turn in line.

"Two cups? You must be tired," the woman remarked as she proceeded to ring Beckett up.

"I wish," Beckett said. "Decaf for me though. Oh ,and add pump three to the bill."

"Ah," the clerk said and smiled in understanding. "How far along are you?"

"You can tell?" Beckett said and frowned, wondering what gave it away.

"I worked the maternity ward before the economy tanked and cuts were made," she said in explanation. "And when a girl looks like you do and doesn't reach for the good stuff? Usually that means only one thing."

"Oh," Beckett said and nodded her head in understanding. "Six weeks."

"Well congratulations. Is it your first?"

"Yes," Beckett answered as she swiped her plastic to pay for the gas and coffee.

"Well good luck, honey. All the best to you and your baby," the clerk smiled and then looked to the next customer.

"Thank you," Beckett said though by now her tone had become more subdued and dropped a few octaves. Making her way out of the store she made sure to keep her coffee in her left hand and Castle's in her right. When his eyes found hers she smiled.

"Please tell me that whatever is in there is better than the mud back in the precinct," Castle said with hopeful anticipation when he saw her welcoming sight.

"Oy! The coffee at the station? I think you can find better beans in most third worlds," Beckett mused and handed Castle the regular.

"Mmm," Castle moaned and let himself enjoy a long pleasurable waft from his cup. "You know I'm almost surprised that Shaw doesn't have some sort of mobile coffee brewer. Like a smart machine that knows when people need a good pick-me-up? You'd think that would be standard issue."

"Maybe. But I think we have a couple years to wait for smart coffee," Beckett chuckled and opened the passenger side door as Castle entered the driver's side. "Try not to kill us or anything, Maverick. I still have to explain every dent and scratch when I return it."

"Good coffee. Good car. A not too shabby partner," Castle listed and slid the keys into the ignition. "And one of the toughest mysteries we have ever faced?"

"Yeah, yeah," Beckett said before shaking her head. "Do me a favor and keep it in your pants."

"If I'm Maverick then what are you?" Castle pondered.

"Hmm... Viper," Beckett smiled.

"Viper?" Castle's jaw dropped.

"Sure. The best there is after all."

"Nah," Castle shook his head. "I think that Viper should go to Montgomery. Oh, and Espo and Ryan? Hollywood and Wolfman."

"Espo would _hate_ that!"

"Yeah," Castle agreed and shared with her a very knowing and very wrly badboy grin. "Can I tell him?"

"As long as I'm there to see it. How about Goose?"

"Goose died though," Castle pouted.

"Well we're running out of pilots, Maverick."

"Iceman!"

"Val Kilmer?"

"Sure," Castle said and rubbed his hands excitedly. "He and Maverick couldn't stand each other at first but by the end they made for an epic team."

"Fine," Beckett said and rolled her eyes at his unrelenting shenanigans but deep down feeling gratefully delighted that the melancholy from earlier had passed.

For the moment at least they had found their rhythm again.

_To Be Continued..._

* * *

Disclaimer: I don't own Castle or it's characters and settings. ABC owns the rights.

Chapter 5 Reviews: It's my firm belief that in many cases you can't be overly angry with someone without having some feelings for that person. Do they still love each other? Anyone who has fallen hard for someone will tell you that it takes a while to get over a breakup.

AN: This chapter was the most difficult to write so far. Eventually I had to resort to energy drinks to get my head into it. In the end the main issue boiled down to how can Castle and Beckett get to a point where they can be professional and courteous with one another in order to do what needed to be done despite having all of this emotional turmoil between them? Make no mistake there is still a lot going on under the surface that each of them are avoiding talking about and even though they made some slight progress they still have a long journey to go in repairing their relationship with each other. But as the saying goes nothing worth having comes easy. Hope you enjoyed the read.

- S


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